Silence makes me want to die
by AimeeMcGee
Summary: Tim and Gibbs' story inspired by the S15 E01 that I was dying to write. Definitely same kind of location at the beginning, although this is a different story. Please be warned : some violence and torture contents, including some strong language and dark thoughts. I do not own NCIS, the NCIS characters belong to D.P.B, and I make no money off this. Now complete.
1. Dirty drops from nowhere (Introduction)

The small drops fell from the dark, dirty ceiling, refreshing the man's face against his will.  
But why should he care anymore…if he was already dead.

— _McGee…_ the man weakly asked, touching the still shoulder with one hand. _McGee…_ he repeated. _Wake up._

But there was no chance for Tim to do so…especially after what had just happened to him.  
Gibbs finally opened one eye with difficulty, now slightly shaking his agent.  
But it seemed like even talking was an incredible task to achieve…

— _McGee_ , he spoke again. _Do not let them win. Do not let them get that power... McGee_ , he insisted.

But he got no answer in return.

— — — — — — — —

 _(Two days later…)_

— How are you doing today, Agent McGee ?

Tim slowly begun moaning, but it was nothing intelligible. In fact, Gibbs wasn't sure, himself, if Tim had recognized any voice, or if he was simply trying to protest.

— You're not gonna touch him again, Jethro suddenly stood up, willing to protect his agent one more time.

— And who are you to decide ! the man finally completely entered the small room, three more armed men standing behind him.

Gibbs briefly froze as the hand pointed a gun at his face, but he couldn't hold back the angriness anymore.  
If Tim had been more conscious at this very moment, or at least more talkative, he'd probably have told him to not try anything stupid, but well…that was the problem. Gibbs _wasn't_ stupid. And he knew they would be killed eventually.

— That's enough ! he continued challenging them without care, not controlling his tongue, he's too weak to go through anything else ! So _stop_ it !

The man reacted with a smile and suddenly lowered his gun, now pointing it in Tim's direction...  
Tim had been lying down directly onto the floor for the last two days, too exhausted to lift himself up on that disgusting piece of wood and mattress, Gibbs too tired as well to carry the man's body, and too scared to hurt him even more if he had only dared doing so anyway.

— Yeah, maybe you're right, the man calmly hesitated. Maybe I should end his miserable life. That must be very painful for him, after all…he smiled.

— _Use me instead !_ Gibbs almost shouted and barely hid his worries, this time, knowing he could potentially delay the inevitable. _I_ am the one you want !

But Tim hadn't even reacted to both speech and threatening…but was it even possible for him to do so in such a situation ?  
The gun finally lowered again after a short moment of silence, but Gibbs knew that wasn't the end of it. In fact, he only didn't know what it was _exactly._

— You must be really liking your agent, to be ready to sacrifice yourself…the voice begun speaking again. I have to admit that I kind of appreciate it. Well, that is certainly very noble, but _he_ is the one that I want, unfortunately, 'cause you see…bad people need to be 'educated'.

— What don't you say 'punished'…

— _Decide_ , Agent Gibbs, he suddenly turned seriouser than ever, cruelly facing Jethro's blue eyes. He comes with me now or the next bullet is for him.

Gibbs could perfectly see the three other smiles in that still half obscurity, but he didn't really care about that for now, no, all he was doing was looking at the group...then at Tim.

— _Three seconds_ , Agent Gibbs, the clock is ticking, the dark silhouette pronounced as he raised again the gun next to Tim's motionless head. Three, two, one…

— _Take him...!_ Jethro shouted with desperation, clumsily pushing his arm against the wall. _I'm…_ I'm s-sorry, McGee, he exhaled and held back the tears, slowly watching them leave and force McGee standing up. _Wait_ , let me come with him ! he panicked and tried walking in their direction, but a strong knee instantly hit his stomach, and he couldn't help but then fall onto the floor, completely powerless…  
— — — — — — — —

...He didn't need waiting more than five minutes to understand they had started their game again, and if he had thought there was no energy left in McGee to allow him to shout, he had certainly been wrong…there was nothing to underestimate when people already knew how to do their job, and he should have been the first to know that.

Gibbs clenched a fist and felt his heart break one more time as he heard Tim's voice now begging for help.


	2. The promise

Gibbs watched them throw again Tim's body onto the floor, barely catching him before he fully touches it, trying to lessen the pain of his agent as much as possible. But would it even make a difference…  
He clearly wanted to say something to them before they go, _anything_ , in fact…but nothing could come out of his mouth, and he knew it was so useless anyway. So he just prayed for the group to leave another time, hoping to get a big enough moment to let Tim heal from his wounds…and that's what they miraculously did for now, and this, without a word.

— _McGee…_ Jethro whispered after they left, Tim's motionless back and arms now remaining lifeless next to him. Forgive me, McGee…  
— — — — — — — —

 _(MTAC, one week ago…)_

 _— Target detected, Agent Gibbs, ready when you are._

 _— Are we sure he is inside? he neutrally asked the man in uniform._

 _— Positive, Agent Gibbs. The official car left the airport earlier and is now driving in the desert. One additional vehicle on both sides of it. Our man and two women detected in the middle one. As they have company, we will have to touch the whole group. Do I have your approval to shoot, Agent Gibbs ? he seriously questioned his interlocutor._

 _Jethro briefly stared at the large screen right in front of him._  
 _It had always seemed strange, especially for someone like him, used to be on a mission, not waiting behind…_  
 _How was it even possible…to simply say a word, and kill someone from distance ?_

 _— Agent Gibbs ? In 1,2 km he'll be out of reach for us, do I have your approval to shoot ?_

 _Jethro sighed and took a last look at the other rectangle inside the screen, following the Jeeps' movements thanks to the only help of his eyes, knowing the deadline was about to come… Farid and his followers had already killed so many people, and he perfectly knew he would never stop until he dies.  
He looked at the countdown again, then back at the vehicles. _

_— 0,7 km left, Agent Gibbs. Last chance. Do I have your approval ? the voice insisted._

 _Jethro quickly swallowed and unconsciously took a small step backward, as if to finally let the others do the job they had been waiting for so long._

 _— Do it, Moritz, he said. Do it now._

 _The man had only nodded and given the informations to someone else that Gibbs could already hear the words that were meaning so much.  
...It had been so fast. And so sadly easy to kill.  
He tried first to think about it as a symbol of victory, discovering the live explosion in the already so warm desert, knowing they had made the good choice…but then what about justice ?  
_ _He furrowed both eyebrows and deeply stared at the rectangle, revealing that large yellow smoke burning all around, impressive fireballs flying over the dead trio of engines and people, thinking…  
_ _Would Farid's death be enough for all these suffering victims' families and relatives, or would have they wished for things to happen differently ?  
_ _Killing someone shouldn't ever be justified. Whatever the reasons.  
_ _But the voice interrupted his thoughts and made him stare again at that other part of the giant screen, Gibbs now refocusing on Moritz's face._

 _— Farid Karon is dead, Agent Gibbs. Confirmation of the vehicles' explosion. Waiting for your word._

 _Jethro took a small step forward, this time, and reopened his mouth in order to pronounce his next instructions._

 _— Send the location to your men and bring a ME to identify the bodies. Director Vance will want some names as soon as possible._

 _— Got it, Agent Gibbs. Is that all ?_

 _— It is, Moritz. Good job._

 _The man in uniform suddenly vanished from the screen, and Gibbs simply shook a hand under his chin, informing the woman by his side to end the video chat.  
_ _'Good job' he strangely thought back about what he had just said to that man, heading outside MTAC…  
_ _It had always been the thing to say in such a situation, hadn't it, and that was probably the reason why he had kept saying it to the ones who had seemed to be deserving it…  
_ _But even after all this time, it still sounded so peculiar._

— Boss…the voice suddenly mumbled, almost inaudibly. Boss, I…

— What is it, McGee ? Gibbs immediately asked and started bending down, killing that previous memory, now approaching Tim's mouth in order to understand his words.

But his agent finally remained silent for an extra undefinable time, Gibbs perfectly understanding how hard it must have been for him to only pronounce these few syllables…it was already a miracle that he had even _managed_ saying them at first.  
Tim was only the shadow of himself, feeling so weak, and so hurt…but he still tried getting rid of the pain for a minute or two, and lowly begun speaking again, new mumbles breaking the silence.

— What do you need, McGee ? Gibbs almost instantly asked, sensing the conversation was about to continue.

— Promise me, boss…

 _—_ Take your time, Tim. I'm here.

 _— Pro…_

— Anything, McGee, what do you want ? Gibbs kept asking, still not knowing if it was a good thing to do or not.

Tim slowly replaced himself onto the floor, pathetically gasping for air every second, Jethro helping him the way he could…he knew his agent wanted to speak, why the new body position.  
But something suddenly grabbed his wrist when he hadn't expected it, although it seemed to be caused by the weakest human grip ever.

— _Promise me,_ Tim started again and swallowed, blurry eyes now staring at the dirty ceiling, then at Jethro. You'll have to…

— To _what_ , McGee ?

— To kill me, boss. _You…_ he quickly gasped for air again, silently suffocating for the umpteenth time. You'll have to do it be...before they do.

Gibbs reluctantly listened to the words he had never expected to hear but didn't say anything in return. What could he say ?  
What could _anyone_ even say to that ?

— Promise me, boss, Tim suddenly tightened his grip a little bit more, lifting his own head and suffering in Gibbs' direction, approaching the opposite face with two swollen eyes. _Please_ , boss, he begged with a strange and tired voice, barely capable to clear his throat, I need you to p…

But Tim was too weak to finish his sentence. Lifting his own skull had certainly been too much, and Gibbs' hadn't even said a thing…  
He gently put back his agent's head onto the dirty floor and approached the entrance of the room, suddenly shouting to anyone available that he needed water. And as a man approached him, he knew that it wasn't any of these people playing tough guys with a gun between fingers, no, that was _the one_ who had been 'in charge' of Tim all this time, always the one talking to them as if he was the chosen one…the reason why they were both stuck in that insane place.

— Any problem, Agent Gibbs ? half of the man's silhouette turned brighter as he came closer.

— I had imagined you behind a desk, waiting for others to do the job... I didn't think you would pay us a visit everyday.

— Well, I like to be 'involved', the face bitterly smiled.

— Involved in what ? Water delivery ?

— Well, if this is all, Agent Gibbs…

— _Alright, Karon_ , Jethro finally stopped being sarcastic. You want to kill me ?

— Now I feel like you have something valuable to say...

— _Do it_ ,Gibbs continued. The way you want. If you want to torture me, I'm all yours, but please, just free my man, 'cause he has nothing to do with you and you know it.

Jethro silently turned nervouser than before but didn't look away from the cruel opposite face, waiting for an answer, or at least a simple reaction that would make things change, deeply knowing he had never done this before, deeply knowing it was the really first time of his life and career that he had been begging for something.  
 _But he had to do it. For Tim._

— Is your friend feeling a bit tired, Agent Gibbs ? the man finally revealed a bigger smile. Well, I am very sorry about that, but as you American people like to say in such a situation : an eye for an eye…a tooth for a tooth.


	3. Ropes and gun

_(Six days ago…)_

 _— You called me, Leon ?_

 _— Please…Director Vance raised a hand in the air, uselessly showing a seat to Gibbs, who expectedly kept his usual body position._

 _— So ? Jethro neutrally asked._

 _— Well, the ME contacted me earlier and gave me the names of the dead…only problem is concerning Karon._

 _— And why that ? Gibbs slightly moved, waiting for more._

 _— Karon's DNA is a 42% match, and let's say that it seems to not be enough for some people in high places._

 _— He's been carbonized, Leon, what did they expect ? To get perfect analyses and go home?_

 _— I know, Gibbs, Leon sighed and tried ignoring the Special Agent's chuckle, but I want the body to be checked again by Dr Mallard, just in case._

 _Gibbs approached a bit more the large desk, raising both eyebrows._

 _— Anything I should know about, Leon ? he suspiciously questioned him._

 _— Well, he sighed again, you are aware that Karon had a twin brother._

 _— Yes, had._

 _— I know what you think, Gibbs, but if you think about it, none of us was technically there when the US Army did that intervention, so I'd like to explore all the possibilities._

 _— So what do you mean ? That US Army has been lying to us ?_

 _— I did not say that either._

 _— This is crazy, Leon. Farid is…_

 _— Actually, I do not think I have asked for your opinion, Agent Gibbs. All I need is a specific answer, and I wanted you to be aware of the new body's arrival in NCIS headquarters._

 _— Well, then why don't you just speak to Dr Mallard himself, Jethro started heading out of the office, after all, that's the one you should be talking to, shouldn't you._

 _— Agent Gibbs…Director Vance exhaled, arms crossed behind his back, but he was already gone._

 _Leon Vance quickly approached the wooden furniture and pressed a few numbers on his phone, hearing the soft voice of Cynthia resonate on the other side of the line._

 _— Director ?_

 _— Please ask Dr Mallard to join me in my office._

 _— Anything else, Director ?_

 _— Yes, tell him to come now._

 _And on these words he hung up, true to himself, silently nervous…  
— — — — — — — — _

— No…

— Hey, don't…

— One more word, Agent Gibbs, and you'll never get a chance to save anyone, and this, including yourself, Karon said, pointing a gun at Jethro, watching his men grab Tim under both his armpits.

It had been two days.  
Yes, maybe Gibbs had turned completely naive, but somehow, he had thought they would lessen a bit their awful activity after giving Tim and himself a 48-hour rest… He swallowed with difficulty and gazed into Farid's eyes, feeling guilty for being that less damaged, sorry for being in such a good shape, compared to his agent.

— I am very glad that we…agree on rules, Agent Gibbs. I've always loved rules, you know, he seriously started his explanation, that is how we do in our country. And without rules…no one can obey to nothing, the world is going crazy, isn't it… You see ? You remain silent, and I do not kill your friend. That's a simple rule, and thanks to it, nobody dies.

Gibbs could hear the accent in the tone of his voice, but he couldn't care less. There was no justification to threaten his agent to death, whatever the reason, and whatever the country.  
But he couldn't say a thing, and he knew it. Yes, McGee was still there, moaning and carried by two men a few steps away from him, eyes swollen and closed, but he couldn't take any risk, even though he knew how it would end… So he just furrowed both his brows and simply kept looking at his new enemy, as if to give himself the only right to silently challenge his persecutor.

— I do not like this kind of look…Agent Gibbs.

Gibbs kept challenging his new enemy with the simple help of his eyes, and the two men kept staring at each other for a brief moment as well, some palpable tension flying over their heads, and no one around could have thought that one of them would have restarted the conversation.

— So what, Karon ?

Tim slightly raised his head and suddenly watched the duet speaking again, Gibbs not knowing if he was really curious and interested about the current dialogue, or really mad that his boss had just selfishly decided ending his life by noisily reacting to Karon. But what could they do, anyway ?

— Whatever I'm doing, Jethro suddenly continued, saying or not saying, you'll keep torturing this boy, won't you, Farid ? You're making fun of that situation, but you've already taken your decision.

— You are crossing the line, Agent Gibbs.

Farid took a look at his two men, still carrying McGee, their victim certainly unable to manage keeping himself up, and Gibbs knew at this very moment that something would happen.  
He knew he shouldn't have said anything. But he knew that it wouldn't have _changed_ anything.

— I need ropes, Farid slowly spoke, as usual. And a chair for our friend, he smilingly added.

And a minute later, he had everything.  
Farid asked some additional men to come and help him, Jethro silently letting the group take bad care of him as if it was something he was deserving, still watching Tim and that weak body he couldn't carry himself…they hadn't even start anything, haven't done anything, but the simple fact of being held up must have been something very painful for him, already…  
Gibbs briefly wondered why he could slightly move only one of his hands, his torso and legs strongly prisoners of that chair, only a little bit of additional rope freeing one of his wrist.  
He was sincerely not expecting anything in particular, until they brought McGee right in front of him.

— What do you want ? he neutrally asked, although something was definitely dying inside of him.

— You had two days of rest, Karon lowly begun explaining again, but as you must have figured, I guess, you friend is still feeling very…tired. Maybe _too_ tired. Anyway, I heard from one of my men the other day that Agent Timothy McGee wanted something from you, apparently, some very deep promise. Well, I was quite against it at first, as you probably noticed, but after all, and especially after the lack of obedience I am obviously getting from you, it might be in the end fair enough to let you do the job. What do you think ? I heard you were a good sniper, Agent Gibbs. Even good at killing people without _even_ leaving your office…so this task shouldn't be that hard for you if we provide you some little help.

— What shouldn't be that hard, Karon ?

Gibbs sighed before reflexively trying moving his half-free wrist, not liking at all the new game that was being played.

— Arturo, give him the gun. And from _behind,_ Arturo, entiendes ? Don't let him try killing you by being stupid enough to help him.

— Speaking Spanish, now ? Gibbs couldn't repress a chuckle. Didn't know it was your usual language…

— Let's say I offer internships to whoever wants to work with me.

Jethro softly chuckled again, trying to hide the fear or any other emotions, and gazed into the other man's eyes, watching the gun approach his own tied up body. He finally pronounced a few words, feeling the tepid sweat along his forehead.

— Puedes morir con tu arma et tener miedo por tu familia, porque no voy a hacer nada con eso, Arturo. Y cuando te pararé, será el infierno en la Tierra cada día de tu vida, te lo prometo.

— Sí…the man cruelly smiled after a pause, approaching Jethro's ear while forcing the gun inside his prisoned palm. Si sobrevives.

— What did he say, Arturo ? Farid groaned from distance.

— Bullshit, señor. American bullshit.

Arturo brusquely spit on the floor while a part of the group was now pointing a gun at Tim's face, Karon enjoying pressing his own against Jethro's skull.

— Don't throw it onto the floor, or do anything stupid, Agent Gibbs, otherwise you might be regretting it… I can see the little wheels turning inside your head...you're looking for a way to escape, aren't you ?

Gibbs heavily exhaled and wondered why he was even waiting. He had enjoyed scaring Farid and Arturo by speaking that foreign language, but he knew they'd still be dead someday. _They both knew it._  
So what was the point saving the other one for now and letting him suffer just a bit more ?  
He felt the gun against his palm, not able to move his wrist further.

— Kill him, Agent Gibbs.

— No, he instantly answered, barely processing the mission order that was now given to him.

— I said 'kill him', Karon continued. Otherwise our man will enjoy again some water.

Tim didn't clearly say how much he was against that idea, but Jethro could see his agent beginning to shake so nervously that he knew what would be happening in here. He had never watched it, nor ever been invited watching it, and had never been willing to do so, but he had still heard these horrible sounds Tim had monstrously freed from his mouth, and he had seen anyway in his life too many traumatized decorated men and women to imagine what Tim had been going through all this time. He seemed to be so exhausted…and _miserable.  
_ Jethro quickly took a look at his wrist. Rope was short and it wouldn't be precise, but maybe there was a better way… _maybe he could…  
_ No, they wouldn't let him die. And dying wouldn't help Tim anyhow, even if there was nothing now to help him with anyway.

— _I'm waiting, Gibbs !_ the voice blamed him again, accompanied by the sound of a click.

— I can't, Farid…

— _Kill me, boss !_

The voice's tone surprised everyone, but Tim had finally managed to express his choice. After all, he had already asked for that promise, and he knew he couldn't go through that again. He didn't want to.

— McGee…Gibbs lowly pronounced, uselessly pulling the small rope around his wrist.

— Alright, men, let's bring our man to his favorite place.

— No, _please_ ! Tim immediately begged, staring at his enemies and then at Gibbs, looking for a way to escape. _Please, kill me boss_ , he repeated the loudest way possible, his eyes now filled with tears of execrable desperation, feeling the hands hold him tighter. I _swear_ to God this is my decision, kill me now and do not let them do that to me again. _Please_ , Gibbs !

But Gibbs was still being too long at taking a decision, something Karon had perfectly expected, and as expected as well, he became too impatient.

— Shoot him, Agent Gibbs, he coldly said. Kill him the way you killed my family, quickly and without a look, and show me how it feels.

— Farid, lis…

— _Shut up !_ the man violently ordered, this time, before strongly slapping Gibbs, Jethro's body slightly moving on both sides, still prisoner of these ropes tying him up to the chair. Kill him, or he'll go again under water, and you'll be in first line to watch it !

Gibbs stood still for a minute or two, although it seemed like a eternity, knowing that gun was still behind his neck as well, knowing he should take a decision… And then he realized what should have always been so easy to realize, the fact that everything was premeditated revenge, that Karon was completely aware, and had always been from the beginning, of the decision he would take concerning McGee, especially at this very moment...  
He deeply sighed and sadly looked at his agent's face, who seemed to understand what would be next…yes, now was the time for him to watch and they both could sense it. But maybe that was at least what Gibbs deserved for his part, for not having been capable to protect the one he had always secretly considered like a son.

— I'm sorry, Tim.

And as the gun slowly fell down from Gibbs' grip, Tim's facial expression revealed another monstrous terror. Karon gave up the game he had been pretending to be playing, and simply walked a bit away from his prisoner, some of his other men grabbing McGee stronger than before, urgently pulling him to another room's direction…  
Gibbs felt his hand shake, even though the gun wasn't in his possession anymore, the dark weapon now being the only witness of his partly justified guiltiness.

— What did you just do, boss ? Tim suddenly cried and shouted at the same time, uselessly trying to get rid of the numerous palms around him. KILL ME ! he shouted even more, both his jawbones tensing like crazy, previous pale cheeks turning warmer and redder. _GIBBS !_ he then yelled from distance, _why didn't you kill me, why ! KILL ME ! Don't let them do that to me ! Help me ! KILL ME…!_


	4. Water games

Gibbs reflexively groaned and didn't even try telling them to let him go, knowing there was nothing to do for now, if only saving time. But would Tim survive once more to that awful treatment they were giving him, and would himself survive as well, forced watching what he had never wished to see before ?

— Karon, Gibbs lowly spoke, he has _nothing_ to do with what happened.

Another groan escaped from his mouth as he spoke when Arturo violently took off the ropes and grabbed a pair of handcuffs. Jethro's arms then joined each other behind his back in the middle of that obscure dirty place, but he didn't mind retorting anything. Yes, all he was doing was intensely gazing into Farid's eyes, hoping for a small miracle to happen.

— _Karon_ , Gibbs insisted, large hands now accompanying his back in order to lead him outside the place.

But if Farid seemed to be ready to smile at first, he finally revealed that same cold and frustrated face.

— Oh _really_ , Agent Gibbs ? Agent McGee has _nothing_ to do with the murder of my family ?

Gibbs sighed and kept staring at him, but didn't say a word, thinking…  
— — — — — — — —

 _(Five days ago)_

 _— No, this is my case now, Leon ! he angrily said, barely waiting for a reaction in return._

 _Gibbs left the elevator and tensely entered the bullpen, walking to his desk._

 _— Well, then you cannot tell me you want to keep me updated, and that we have the wrong body in the end, if you're finally ready to give the work back to another team ! Yes, Moritz has been working as well on it, but… Listen, I don't care if you don't like my manners, Leon, it is too late to step back now !_

 _Jethro furrowed both his brows as he noticed his three agents staring at him before childishly focusing again on their work, himself barely hearing Leon talk about Dr Mallard, who'd been apparently coming in the office the day before, and this morning again for the results…_

 _— Well, sorry to disappoint you Leon, he interrupted him, but I already put my team on the case._

 _Tony, Ziva, and Tim all raised their heads again and took a look at each other, wondering when they could have been working on a case they had no damn idea at all about._

 _— Of course, I already started trying tracing him ! Gibbs revealed a small, but still noticeable hesitation, finally strangely staring at one agent in particular... I do not need to share my work with any other team, Leon ! I…well, McGee is on it, so the case is ours, final. McGee, he finally repeated the name, boringly raising the phone in his direction, Vance wants you to confirm that you are currently working on tracing Karon._

 _— The…the new body Ducky received yesterday…?  
_

 _— Yes._

 _— Who the hell is Karon…Tony begun whispering to Ziva._

 _— Don't ask me !_

 _Tim finally grabbed the phone with visible nervousness, now listening to Director Vance's official voice.  
Leon Vance was not that stupid, wasn't he, he perfectly knew Gibbs…and even more people trying to lie to him. _

_— Director ? Y-yes, this is Agent McGee. I…yes, I've…actually, he strangely tried clearing his ideas, Gibbs unfairly glancing at him with an invisible pressure, what I was about to say was that I had just started looking for Karon and his…uh, men. But…but it's taking time, Director. Of course. I…I understand. Very well, I'll pass the message, then, he added before hanging up.  
_

 _— D-d-director…? Tony made fun of Tim, Ziva discreetly smiling from behind her desk._

 _— I said 'men', boss…was it right ? I mean, are we looking for some extra people as well ? Tim turned nervous again, not paying attention to his teammate's umpteenth joke._

 _But Gibbs didn't say a thing and only took back his phone from McGee's hand, sighing with exasperation…  
— — — — — — — — _

_—_ McGee, you're gonna be alright. I know you can survive this, Gibbs added while two men tied him up again to a chair, strong rope burning his skin and bones. Don't try to look stronger than you are. You already are, you hear me ?

 _A knot around his wrist. The second as well.  
_ _That was very painful._

— Don't hold back, Tim. If you want to scream, do it. I'll be here.

— Shut up, Gibbs, or I'll cut your tongue. He doesn't hear you anyway, Farid sighed, he's too dam weak to be conscious.

— Yeah, probably another consequence of you and your men punching him in the face to calm him down…

— Didn't he just ask you to kill him ? We didn't think any additional blow would make a difference. _American people…_ he disdainfully sighed, none of you is prepared for nothing.

The other piece of rope was very closed to his legs' bones, but he remained silent, this time, his facial traits now being the only indication of his pain.

— So here we are, gentlemen ! Farid finally said after he checked his oldest prisoner, as if he had become some kind of TV presenter, explaining the rules. First time for the both of you, right ? It'll certainly be more than interesting. And don't you dare sleeping while I'm talking, _you idiot_ , he added as he bent down and approached Tim, slapping him right in the face.

Tim weakly reopened his eyes and realized he was still lying somewhere onto the floor, although he had no idea since when he had been in here. To be honest, he was mostly spending his time painfully sleeping and waking up…  
He noticed the shiny water and its small waves moving around…why was there a…

— Question number one, Agent McGee, the voice loudly continued, soft and confident : did you freely use or not your time at NCIS looking for members of my family, in order to trace them ?

— He wasn't looking for your family, Karon, it wasn't some kind of vendet…

— _I said shut up !_ Farid screamed before slapping Gibbs, in turn, his other men still not moving from where they were. Answer me, Agent McGee, he ordered, turning around again. Best answers are usually the shortest.

Tim slowly tried opening his swollen eyes for the second time, his whole body aching and burning to the bone…

— _I did_ , he lowly said.

He didn't notice Gibbs bitting his lips from his spot, in fact he couldn't notice anything, he was way too tired for that.

— And now that's finally a real man I have in front of me. Someone who has the gut to look at me in the eye and assume his responsibilities.

Farid smiled before nodding in his men's direction, and Tim now had a better opportunity to see the quite clear water, although it didn't last long, some hands immediately approaching the large recipient next to him, another pair grabbing his neck and pushing it under the fresh liquid.  
It was as if someone had put a stone inside his throat and forcibly inflated his cheeks, his feelings mixed with the impression of having something small, but thick, heavy and soft at once, simply blocking any oxygen invasion.  
He could hear himself scream inside his own head…

 _Maybe that was over. It could be.  
_

 _…_ The air escaped his lungs with an incredible pain when he hadn't expected it, someone pulling his hair away from the water, drops falling along his face as if to replace the lack of tears and sweating, and something suddenly irritated his vocal cords, himself ending up coughing and coughing again.

— McGee, you alright ?

— I think our man is perfectly fine...

Karon walked in McGee's direction again and deeply looked at him.

— Question number two, Special Agent McGee : did you freely or not begin tracing me, knowing it would result in killing me ?

— I was the one asking, Farid, st…

— Why don't just shut the fuck up, for God sake, Agent Gibbs ! Karon immediately stood up and pointed his gun at his prisoner, Jethro uselessly trying to free his wrist from the burning ropes. There is nothing I want to know ab...

— _I did._

Everyone suddenly stared at Tim, Karon immediately walking away from Gibbs, who didn't know what to think…  
He'd never thought Farid would ever let them go, so there was no need in challenging him in order to save time…well, he had done it himself in order to save McGee, so who would really know what was going on in his agent's head ?

— What did you just say, Agent McGee ?

Tim could feel the water turning fresher along his face, although it was more tepid than cold.  
He looked so tired every new minute, but now so brave about something…  
Gibbs opened wide open eyes when he heard his agent repeat his answer and give even more details to it, understanding in the end the young man's real purpose.

— I said that I did, Karon, Tim exhaled with difficulty. I wanted to kill you for sure, he briefly and weakly chuckled, that's what everyone wanted, right ? But I wanted more than that… People like you…

A man suddenly grabbed Tim's neck as if to punish him earlier than expected, but Farid raised a palm in the air, asking him to relax.

— _People like me…?_

— _Yes_ , Tim weakly smiled. They…they never change, do they. I…I _needed_ , I _wanted_ to target more than one, I…

— _McGee, what are you…_

— Take your time, Agent McGee, Karon interrupted Gibbs, pointing his gun in his direction again, one of his men finally putting a cloth between his teeth.

— I found your brother before he entered the car…but I waited for the others to join him in the desert… _More…_ he interrupted his own words and coughed, gazing into his enemy's eyes. More people to kill...he begun again, didn't really bother the Navy. It was the perfect opportunity.

Tim finally ended his speech with another small smile, new drops of sweating on top of his forehead.  
 _That was the moment._ _The_ moment he had waited for so long...

' _Take a deep breathe, Tim_ ' he thought. ' _It's gonna be alright. It's gonna be quick._ '

And he was right to think fast…  
Tim didn't know if Karon had been the one screaming, or if it had been Gibbs trying yelling at him from afar, because the sound was already to far away from him to be perfectly clear, his face now sinking again underwater.

— _Stop this, Karon !_ Jethro badly articulated, bitting the fabric, his body parts fighting the ropes, but Farid's eyes were injected with blood and boiling hatred, and he couldn't care less about him anymore…

Gibbs shook his arms and stared at the dirty ceiling, desperately holding back the tears, silently begging anyone for a miracle…  
But Tim had been too tired of fighting and suffering…so he had told Farid what he had wanted to hear, in order to stop this.


	5. How does it feel, to die ?

Tim felt his lungs inflate with an incredible pain, a pain he didn't think he'd have been able to feel again…  
 _Why was he still alive after what he'd said ?_

— Welcome again, Agent McGee, Farid coldly pronounced, facing Tim's wet face and torso, I hope you're enjoying the ride !

Drops instantly fell from Tim's sweating forehead, the tepid sensation mixed with the fresh water making him feel completely sick and nauseous...Gibbs had finally stopped chewing the fabric between his teeth in order to check on the young man, but Farid could easily notice he was relieved as well to know that his agent was still alive.

' _Alive…_ ' Jethro ironically thought. But what was the _real_ cost for living...?

Tim's mouth convulsively freed some cold liquid as his bronchi expressed their need to cough, and he then clumsily pressed both palms against the dirty floor, barely managing sitting up and figuring out where he was exactly.

— How does it feel, _to die_ , Agent McGee ? Farid seriously asked, as if it was a matter of life or death. Do you see your God, up there, calling you to come and join him ? Any vision ? Any...ghosts, maybe ? he moved both his hands at once, imitating spirits from beyond the grave. I would love to get an idea of the situation...in order to understand what they've been through.

Gibbs clenched his fists under the ropes again, perfectly sensing that these kind of questions were far from being a good sign, but Tim was too tired to fight back and retort anyway, or maybe he wasn't…  
In fact, Tim wasn't showing anything, and that was what was actually worrying Gibbs the most.  
Farid approached Jethro's agent and grabbed his jawbones between calloused fingers, Tim weakly trying raising his head, but not saying a thing, eyes injected with blood, humid face getting thicker…

— I've asked you a question, Agent McGee, Farid insisted, pressing his thumb deeper into the skin.

But if McGee tried, at first, to stutter anything, he finally only ended up coughing again, that same awful sensation irritating his throat...  
The cough was brassy and loose, and definitely not pleasant to hear, and Gibbs wondered how long his agent would survive...

— How does it feel, Agent McGee ! Farid suddenly shouted and asked his men to step back, surprisingly grabbing his victim's neck with his own grip, Tim's face sinking underwater again, violently exhaling large bubbles in the middle of the liquid…then coming back to real world.

 _—_ Tim, are y _..._

 _— How does it feel, Agent McGee !_ Farid now expressed an even bigger rage, staring at Tim quick as a flash, pushing his skull another time underwater.

— _STOP IT...!_ Gibbs incoherently screamed, cloth still half stuck between his humid teeth, fists hysterically shaking under the ropes.

He finally nervously begun moving like a lion in cage, not capable anymore to hold back the unbearable violence, but the wooden seat he was stuck to since the beginning started to dangerously rock back and forth, and he then only painfully ended up hitting the disgusting floor, still tied up to that same heavy chair…

— Don't you worry, Agent Gibbs, the criminal briefly observed his second prisoner before focusing on Tim again, I'll take care of you later…but as you must know, all revenge process has its priorities.

Jethro didn't listen to Karon's voice and clumsily managed to get rid of the fabric, not thinking anymore about the pain it'd been to fall down in such a position, now only worried about Tim's umpteenth immersion in that large recipient…  
— — — — — — — —

…Tim barely felt the bones pulling his hair out of the water, his brain empty of any ideas and thoughts, his body simply pathetically falling onto the dirty floor.  
The NCIS agent's partly wet t-shirt got stained with some additional wet spots as he touched something humid, but all that Gibbs could notice from where he was were Tim's terribly glassy eyes.

— _McGee…_ Gibbs pronounced almost inaudibly, head and shoulder against the floor.

Farid coldly stood still in front of his enemy's agent, watching him like a shadow over its victim, giant man looking at the insignificant body next to him…  
He finally bent down and then simply stood on only one knee, pitifully looking at what was left of Tim.

— _Nobody touches my family, Agent McGee…_ he slowly whispered, not even God has any right. But you should still try saving your soul before it's too late, by saying 'sorry' to the ones you've uselessly hurt.

Tim didn't speak, nor did anything else at first, finally only managing moving a tired eyeball and face, silently watching Farid, some small ultrasound softly crossing his eardrum…  
He painfully exhaled in the end and didn't say a word, his gaze so full of exhaustion and deep feelings of never asked unfairness, sensing it was the end of it and certainly better, somehow…  
Farid's facial expression changed from cruel disdain to pure hatred as he felt the heavy burden of silence…

— _You're gonna die, Timothy McGee..._ he lowly spoke, as is to reveal his greatest secret to his victim, _and I will let rats make a feast of your body._

And on these words, he punched Tim right in the face and stood up again, the agent feeling his neck quickly crack before facing infinite darkness, Gibbs unexpectedly shouting the two letters of negation at the top of his lungs..


	6. Missing informations

( _Four days ago…_ )

— _Wh…_ what do you mean by 'that wasn't him', boss ?

— That wasn't him, Tony, that's all ! Gibbs dryly answered.

— _Wow, when McGee's gonna know what…_

— McGee doesn't have to know anything. Not yet.

Tony reflexively stopped and raised a hand in front of him, facing Jethro.

— Excuse me ? Wait, why shouldn't McGee know ? He helped you with the case as much as I did, he traced Karon !

— Yeah, the _wrong_ one, Tony !

— Hey, that wasn't his fault. Our man was the one using that phone, and he was the one we've seen on that camera.

— I know, Tony ! Karon and his brother played with us all this time ! But now I need McGee to do his job and to not act as if everything was his fault from the beginning, because we both know he's gonna react like this, because he is how he is, and we both know it isn't gonna help with the case !

— Boss, you basically forced him to find your…'second' guy. _Sorry_ …he sighed, but it's confusing me. I just think you could at least give him all the elements, he continued. _Really_ , I do appreciate the confidences, Gibbs, but I won't be the one behind the computer, making the magic happen.

— It's only gonna be more pressure if he knows the wrong people died, Tony. It will drive him crazy.

Tony briefly rubbed his face and took a look through the window, overthinking.

— Listen, boss...McGee will always be McGee, but while this story may sound completely amazing, you should tell him about Karon's twin brother, the US Army, well, _everything_ that might help him finding places to trace him. I know Karon used a pseudonym, but with a little more researches, he'll figure out at some point they were from the same family. He can talk to Abby or Ducky, Palmer, hearing about the DNA, or…

— _Anything else ?_ Gibbs turned impatient.

— _Uh, yeah...!_ Look, I know you're more the kind of guy following his agents rather than calling people who are actually _paid_ for that, but come on, boss, Karon is alive, we know the kind of things he's done, so how are you gonna take care of McGee's safety ? Karon could reach any airport and decide to join us anytime.

— We have people everywhere watching his every move.

— Yeah, as if it could be that simple. Who can say he was in the same country as his brother when it happened ? He could...

— I'll do what I have to do, Tony, Gibbs suddenly interrupted him, so do not tell me how to do my job ! _Now..._ are we finished, or do you have any additional tips to give me about my work ? he coldly asked and sighed another time.

— No, boss, Tony sighed back. That was all.

— _Good._  
— — — — — — — —

( _Later, that same day…_ )

...Tim woke up on his seat, next to his typewriter, his back and head aching as if he had written all night long and fell asleep. He grabbed both armchairs, decided to head to his bed, when he realized he was tied up.  
He desperately shook his wrists and waist, trying to free himself, but there was definitely nothing he could do to escape.

 _One of his sleeve rolled up. A tiny whole on his skin.  
_ _Probable use of a needle.  
_ _Drug._

 _—_ Did you sleep well, Agent McGee ?

Tim slowly raised his head and took a look right in front, the silhouette of a man turning clearer as he blinked more and more.

— _Wh…_ Tim lowly pronounced and heavily breathed, trying to focus better. It's… _you're sup…_ what…what did you give me ?

— Nothing interesting, Agent McGee, but do not worry about that, the effects will disappear soon. Let's say I only needed to keep you asleep for some little time…he smiled, in case you would have tried to move, or refused to give me your phone.

— _Time to d…_ to do what ? he kept asking, feeling his tong turning drier.

— You're very curious...the voice now seemed to be speaking from afar. _Alright, wake up._

Tim blinked a few more times, trying to understand why the invader was now walking away from him, opening the door…

— I said wake up !

— _I'm_ …I'm awake, Tim slightly jumped and opened both his eyelids, trying staring at the revenant.

But the man was not moving from the other room, not even looking at him…  
Tim's face finally turned paler as he noticed the dark pair of shoes next to the wooden rectangle, shoes he wasn't usually having in his possession…

 _Gibbs._

— Great connexions between American cities, hopefully, the voice continued. I was already in your country, but your team made me delay my plans, and that's making me feel really mad…

— _You're…_ supposed to be dead, Tim lowly pronounced, Jethro suddenly slowly moving after another kick against his body. We've heard about your drive in the desert, _how can you…_ how can you be in the United States ?

' _Wake up, Tim_ ' he thought for himself. ' _Think clearer, you need to work things out_ '.

— It wasn't him, Tim, Gibbs' voice unexpectedly begun talking, the man trying to stand up. Karon…had a twin brother.

— _Wh…how ?_

 _—_ Sorry, Tim. I didn't tell you about it, because…because we thought he was dead.

He then watched the gun pointed at his face, not knowing if he should dare staring at Tim, if he should say something else and only stupidly wait for what would be next…what could they do anyway ?

— Did you destroy both phones ?

A man suddenly joined the trio and revealed an emotionless smile, briefly glancing at both NCIS Agents.

— I did, Karon, he answered, walking a bit away from him, gun pointed at Gibbs as well. But I'm not sure someone could have traced the old man's one. That thing is an antique. Not very nice boss, your man, he continued. _Lying to his agents…_

— Shut up, Ahmed, keep your criticism for later, when they'll be conscious enough to listen to it. For now…let's move them both away from here.

Ahmed approached Jethro a bit more and raised a fist next to his face, Karon meeting Tim's terrified eyes before doing the same against his skull with the help of his gun.


	7. The funerals

( _Two days later…_ )

Gibbs clenched a fist and bit his tongue to not reveal any other emotions, focusing on the body as if it was one he had never seen, nor ever known, perfectly knowing he was just using denial to survive to this umpteenth parody of life…  
 _They had been more than he had thought._

— Gibbs, can you hear me ?

— Yes, Leon.

— Good. He had lost too much blood, Gibbs, he continued, it wasn't your fault. As soon as they shot him, it was already a dead sentence.

— I could have saved him, Leon. I should have.

— No, you couldn't. You were tied up to a chair, Gibbs, your head against the floor, there was no way for you to walk to him and save him.

— I should have done something.

Leon Vance sighed and walked a few steps away from Gibbs, knowing his words were falling on deaf ears, staring at the corner of the ambulance, where the Special Agent was now sitting. There wasn't a lot to do about his face, at the most he only needed a few stitches, but he would probably have to take a break and see someone to help him heal physically, if not psychologically. Gibbs had always hated shrinks, and that was not a big surprise, but this awful recent event would certainly have another traumatic impact on the man, even if he'd soon manage to perfectly hide it, as usual.

— I know that is not what you want to hear, Gibbs, but as awful it is to have lost one of our best agents, I am still very glad that we've been able to bring you back.

He didn't smile, but his words were full of respect, and Jethro could sense the importance of the speech...  
But things were not that easy, were they.

— He was so young, Leon.

— I know. But unfortunately, death doesn't wait to take people away from this world, and sometimes there is nothing we can do about it.

Gibbs noticed the usual hands behind his back, although the Director made a pause to put an arm on his shoulder…it hadn't been a lot of days, but still, it had seemed like an eternity out there. And now that was over.  
 _For him._

— Everyone else is fine ? he turned a bit seriouser than before, slowly transforming again into someone strong and falsely careless, the kind of man asking questions in order to not give answers.

— Yes, Leon said and sighed another time, a few bullets here and there, but nothing dangerous enough to make more victims. That is quite a miracle, I have to admit, I mean, except for...

— _Good._ When is the family coming ?

Again, that cold way of speaking. Gibbs was back. _Somehow._  
Leon Vance did notice but didn't comment, only giving the man the answers he was looking for without retorting.

— Agent Dinozzo is contacting them at the very moment. I thought it'd be good for them to have a familiar voice talking to them.

— I will have to have a word with them.

— This is not an obligation, Gibbs, but if you insist you will have the opportunity to do so at the funerals.

— I have to, Leon.

— Then you will very soon.

Gibbs nodded while Director Vance briefly apologized and walked away from the ambulance, someone calling him from the other side, and Gibbs then took the opportunity to take a look at the rest of the scene... People had been checking his face and reflexes, putting that tiny lamp in front of his hopeless eyes, well, done everything he had expected them to do, and Leon had finally quickly joined him where he was, so he had not taken the time to see what was really happening outside.  
The people, the streets, the noises…for days he hadn't heard anything…

 _— Am I…dead, boss ? the agent painfully coughed._

 _— Not yet, Tim._

 _— Where are…_

 _— I don't know, Tim. It's been almost two days without seeing them. They might be busy._

 _— 'Busy', he weakly chuckled. Nice…_

 _…Gibbs had stared at his agent in the darkness for several hours when a group of people suddenly entered the dirty room, decided to make up for lost time._

 _— No…_

 _— Hey, don't…_

 _— One more word, Agent Gibbs, and you'll never get a chance to save anyone, and this, including yourself, Karon said, pointing a gun at Jethro, watching his men grab Tim under both his armpits…_

...A hand waving next to his face. A few more, in fact.

— _Gibbs…_ Gibbs ? Are you alright ? Leon worriedly asked.

Jethro got rid of the memory and focused again on Director Vance, simply nodding, exhausted in so many ways.  
There was no way he could ever forget his face…but he tried looking neutral again and didn't listen to anyone talking to him, only watching Leon's arm telling the men they could install him, start the vehicle and take him to the hospital.  
— — — — — — — —

( _The funerals…_ )

Gibbs stared at the triangular American flag between their hands, discreetly looking at both beloved parents crying for their son…  
He briefly focused on the sky and tried holding back the tears, knowing he wouldn't help anyone if he'd do so, _including himself._

— Hey...boss.

Tony suddenly joined him and faced him, that same expression in the eyes.  
He had apparently been a good teacher. Tony was getting better at hiding his emotions.

— How are you ? Gibbs neutrally asked, still putting a palm on his agent's shoulder.

— I don't know, boss.

— You don't know ? Jethro furrowed both his eyebrows.

— I just wished I could have killed Karon myself. _He…_

Jethro noticed the now shiny eyes but didn't say a thing. They still could have that conversation later.

— How are his parents ? he tried to change the discussion's subject.

— _Devastated...?_ Tony strangely spoke and chuckled, momentarily staring at his shoes.

— Like us all, Gibbs painfully sighed and took a last look at the coffin joining the ground, mad at the sun for shining in such a situation, and at the birds for celebrating life when someone was forced to embrace full darkness. _Like us all…_ he sadly repeated.


	8. Vance in first line

( _Two days earlier…_ )

— NCIS ! Hands up !

The group of NCIS Agents violently pushed one of the doors and entered the dirty location, bulletproof jackets covering their torsos and dark guns between their hands. Leon Vance was surprisingly standing in first line, his weapon pointed at the men, sharing its bullets in the crowd with a perfect precision with the ones trying to fight back.

— Arturo, hands up ! he added and ordered.

Leon Vance finally recognized and approached the man, slightly shaking his head from time to time in his men's direction, indicating them to immediately enter the other rooms.

— Manos arriba, Arturo ! And that's the last language I'll use before I decide to kill you !

— Don't shoot, he instantly answered with that same accent he was so famous for. Don't shoot.

— Do not tempt me, then, Vance seriously added, gun raised in front of him.

The other NCIS men kept walking from a place to another, shooting at the ones not cooperating with them, asking others to stand still.  
Leon Vance focused on the different sounds entering his eardrums, trying to analyze the situation. How many could they be ?

— _Director, we found them !_ a voice suddenly exclaimed from the other side. Both on the floor, Agent McGee in serious condition.

— Alright, Thomas, keep an eye on this one for me, would you.

And on these words, he exchanged his place with that other man and accessed the space he had been looking for from the very beginning, now facing someone starting freeing Gibbs in order to help him stand right again, while another one was checking McGee's pulse.

— Tell me you just fell, Gibbs, Leon sighed and gazed into Jethro's blue eyes, silently worried and professional.

— Would rather bet on…a day or two, Gibbs exhaled, blood now moving differently than before inside his skull, making the new process painful. Not sure, actually, he chuckled nervously, drops of sweating along his whole forehead, it's quite hard to know without natural light.

— Take your time to lift him up, gentlemen, he advised, it'll be painful to help him stand, and we won't have any stretcher to use until we're outside. Now tell me : how much does it hurt, Gibbs ?

— Leon, I should…maybe I can…

— _Yes_ , Gibbs, I'm pretty sure you're ready to save the world, but let's take one step at the time, if you don't mind, Leon continued the conversation. Maybe you can simply give me the honors for today and I'll let you do the rest next time we have terrorists in DC.

Gibbs felt his arms shake irregularly but tried to focus on the fact that he was safe. He could feel his heart beat so fast and so slow at once... But that wasn't the most important, indeed, there was something else to think of….  
Something, no ' _someone_ ' was…  
The flashback hurt his brain with an invisible pain, the memory of McGee and what happened to him killing his heart.

— _Nobody touches my family, Agent McGee…not even God has any right. But you should still try saving your soul before it's too late, by saying 'sorry' to the ones you've hurt. You're gonna die, Timothy McGee, and I will let rats make a feast of your body…_

…Gibbs rejoined real world and noticed the uniformed arms holding him tightly while slowly helping him leave that chair.

— I think it's been two days, he painfully exhaled again, I've… _yeah_ , I've been falling from that chair, and Tim was…how is McGee ? he suddenly nervously asked, looking for another body.

— Agent Curtis over here is checking on him, as you can see, Leon raised a hand in another man's direction, Gibbs' facial expression turning worrier than before, his legs now shaking in turn. Now let's just w…

— _NTR, Director !_

— _NTR…_

Leon Vance abandoned the group of agents for a second and waited to see it all with his own pair of eyes, looking everywhere at the different NCIS people, future prisoners and dead ones, that so famous expression on his face…  
One thing was remaining for sure : he wanted them all to evacuate the place the safest way possible.

— Where is he ? he suddenly looked frustrated. I don't see him anywhere ! his voice turned louder as he automatically walked around, although he didn't really show any other kind of emotions.

— _We couldn't find him in here, Director._

— Are we sure about that, Agent Porter !

— _Definitely, Director._

Arturo begun smiling as he felt the burden weighing on Leon's shoulders.

— You'll never be able to find him…no one never finds Karon. He is the one who finds people.

— You'd better take that smile out of your face, Arturo, Leon approached him and gazed into his eyes. That is because of your mistake that we've found that place, Karon is never gonna trust you again, and I bet people won't be that nice with you once you'll be in prison for perpetuity.

— Hijo de perra, me voy a…

— Take him please, Thomas ! he nodded and went back to where Gibbs and McGee were, ready to give new departure's directives. _Everyone_ , he added, watching first aid quickly been given to Tim, let's get them all out of here, please, I want you to…

The sound resonated like a small explosion, something not big enough, from Leon's point of view, to burn and kill a dozen of people…but big enough _for one._ He briefly met Gibbs' glance and immediately rejoined the place he had just left, his facial features tensing on both sides of his cheeks.

— _Hands up !_ a few agents repeated here and there, the survivors now trying to escape.

— Thomas…! Leon ran to the duet lying on the floor, checking the agent's pulse. EVERYBODY OUT! he almost instantly shouted, reflexively grabbing the man with his own arms. And bring them to the exit, _immediately !_

He could notice Gibbs trying to move as fast as the others, although it was perfectly visible that he couldn't refuse the help of some hands around his waist, too weak and numb because of his previous awful position…McGee's body was behind, held by two other agents. Leon watched the movement of his men with desperation...  
 _How in hell could it have happened ?_

— _Wh…_ what was that, Leon ? the voice weakly asked, finally safe and outside.

— A bomb, Gibbs, Vance desperately sighed and heavily breathed in. A damn bomb was hidden on Arturo !


	9. Three weeks later

( _Three weeks_ _later..._ )

— Here you go, buddy...Tony gently said, helping Tim enter his apartment.

— Tony...you don't have to come with me to all my appointments, they have taxi companies that can help.

— No way, Timmy, if I don't, they'll probably send you a fat guy tired of his job who's gonna make you fall from his vehicle because he's too bored to carry you, and then all NCIS Agents are gonna kick my ass for having let the hospital take care of your travels. And today is a special day, isn't it.

— You have way too much imagination, Tony...

— _Yeah..._ he smiled, that's an actor thing, you know, I've always been very _creative_.

— Why am I not surprised...Tim rolled his eyes and briefly stared at the ceiling.

— Hey, you prefer having Ziva watching your steps, telling you how hard life is in Israël, and forcing you to do abs while you're still in recovery ?

— _Ah-ah..._

— Or what about Ducky or Palmer, both telling you stories about a faraway kingdom producing Bourbon until late in the night, while your painkillers are not strong enough to make you sleep...

— Oh shut up, Tony, at least I'm pretty sure that Ducky is moving faster than I do. But you're talking as much as he does, now...he finally sighed, clumsily touching the armchair of his seat before slowy starting sitting down, feeling again that awful sensation, remembering it had been where he'd been tied up that very first time.

— Alright, Tony chuckled, if you aren't happy with my stories, then we can call Gibbs, believe me, he'll be extremely glad to not say anything, as us...

— No ! I don't want to s...

Tony immediately stopped making fun of the situation and refocused on his friend. McGee had turned paler than he was already, one of his fists clenched.

— _McGee...?_ Sorry, I didn't want to... Did I say something wrong ?

— No, Tony, I just...need to be left alone, that's all. Tomorrow I'll be on desk duties, and...

— Hey, you've heard Vance, it's only if you're ready. You've got plenty of time. No need to rush.

— I'm good, Tony, I...I just need things to go back to normal.

His friend bit his lips and took several looks around the place, wondering if he should give him some privacy or stay a bit longer... Tim was getting better, at least _physically_ , and as much as he needed support, it was quite obvious that he deserved some time for himself, even if not for the best. Days in that awful place, then at the hospital...then a few more with him, and now...the D-day. McGee at home, about to work again. But could really things go back to normal ? Probably not.

— I'm only gonna take that painkiller and lie down, Tony, nothing spectacular. I'll sleep...then tomorrow I'll wake up and head to NCIS.

— You'll have your phone with you ? Anything you might need close enough from your bed to be caught ?

— Yes, Tony, if I need anything I can still use my voice and fing...

Tim suddenly took a look at his hands. There was no need, for sure, for them to be healing anymore, but still...there was this constant memory, yeah, he could perfectly remember...

 _— Calling someone, Agent McGee ? You just arrived, and you already want to leave ? Well, I really do not appreciate my visitors trying to sneak out..._

 _— ...Aaaaah !_

— Hey, McGee.

 _— Uh ?_ he seemed terrified.

— They're okay. Your fingers are perfect.

Tim took a second look at his pair of hands, watching their ten bones with indescribable worries, his thoughts flying away from where he currently was, far, far away... Tony approached him and put a palm on his shoulder, trying to make the living nightmares go away for a little while, and mostly to be supportive.

— I can stay tonight, McGee. _Really._ I don't mind.

— And again, I don't need anyone, Tim seemed to be loosing patience, although he was truly doing everything to hide his emotions. Look, I'm taking it right now.

Tim grabbed the pill he was supposed to take every evening and looked for a glass of water somewhere in the kitchen, Tony walking right behind him in case he'd fall...he turned the tap on and watched the water join the bottom of the recipient, finally swallowing his medicine before grabbing the now full glass.  
The fresh liquid touched his lips as his treatment reached the end of his throat, and he then slowly turned back in Tony's direction, showing him how independent this small action should look.

— _You see ?_ I managed.

— Congratulations, Timmy, you want a reward for that ? he tried to keep the conversation funny.

— I'll pass, thanks. Now I'm just gonna go to bed.

Tony sighed and observed his teammate rejoin his bedroom and bed, wondering if he was taking the good decision...  
 _McGee was a big boy...wasn't he ?_

— Alright, McSick... _You see ?_ McGeek, McSick...he uselessly chuckled. It rhymes, he added while shaking his phone between fingers, sensing how embarrassing the situation was becoming. Alright, Tim, _I..._ you know what, just call me...if you need.

— I will, Tim revealed a weak, but gentle smile.

— Okay. Bye.

— Bye, Tony.

— Bye...McGee.

Tony finally closed the door and walked into the corridor, and Tim waited to be sure he was completely alone to put two fingers inside his mouth. He got rid of the slightly humid medicine and put it somewhere on his cupboard. He'd take it tomorrow, when there'd be real need for it, when he'd be too busy to think about anything else and deserving to hide the pain momentarily. Even desk duties were meaning something. _That was work._  
He completely lied down onto his bed and freed the sounds of someone suffering from numerous pains, physical and psychological, knowing it was still easier to be busy feeling how it hurt rather than face unlimited, fearful silence.  
So much time in that awful place...and still, it hadn't been that long, compared to what others had been through during other missions in the past. But still, it hadn't been a very big problem out there, he had been too busy trying to survive...but now he was alone in that quiet apartment, knowing he'd nicely go to work the next morning.  
Too quiet...too _normal._ Only the pain to make him forget about anything else.  
But maybe he was deserving it, after all. Well, he had never really believed in karma, but he had been the one sent in that terrible space after he had traced himself someone in order to kill him. So many people killed. Not only one criminal.  
And it had almost been his turn... Yes, maybe he deserved to feel the pain.  
To suffer.

 _To die._


	10. Welcome back

— ... _Agent McGee, please come in._

— Thank you, Director.

Leon Vance invited Tim to sit in front of his desk and did the same once he seemed sure the agent was a bit more comfortable, watching Tim take a brief strange look at the armchairs...he discreetly breathed in and out, hands on the official piece of furniture. ' _With power must come responsibilities_ ' he thought. Yes...but sometimes, he could perfectly deal without.

— How are you feeling, Agent McGee ? he asked with a neutral tone of voice.

— Better, Director.

— Are you going to all your appointments ? Are you healing properly ?

— I am, Director, and I think I can say I am making improvements in all categories.

— Well, this is a positive way of speaking, from what I can see. I am glad, Agent McGee.

Tim simply smiled this time, or revealed what he thought was a modest smile, feeling dizzy at the simple idea of being back here again, that place he was so used to know before…  
 _That was for sure a strong return to reality._

— I'm sure you'll get used to it again, Leon gently nodded and watched Tim nodding back, sensing there was something he was not saying aloud.

He could perfectly see it, and he knew they'd have to talk about it together at some point, even if there wasn't any emergency. Tim's feeling of guiltiness was so obvious, and that wasn't really a surprise…especially after what had so sadly happened. At least there was some improvements about his agent's general condition, although his words were a bit too neutral to express great recovery.  
Tim heavily breathed in and out and tried staring at the man's face...but how could he, knowing that same man had seen him in the worst shape ever ? That was almost humiliating.

— Anything you wanted to ask me, Agent McGee ? Leon helped him his own way.

— Yes, Director. In fact, I was wondering…if his family was still there. _I mean...I was…_

— Too unconscious to be part of the funerals ?

— Y-yes…Tim reflexively lowered his head, wondering if his feet could distract him enough from being too embarrassed.

— Well, let me tell you first that Agent Thomas has been surrounded by love and friendship on that day, unfortunately his family left. But if you still feel like you want to pay your respects to them, I can easily put you in contact. Agent Dinozzo was the one sharing the terrible news with them and I am pretty certain that additional comforting words could be truly appreciated.

Tim nodded another time and forced himself looking in front again. Maybe he could try staring at the window, pretending… He could remember Tony sharing the information with him as well, and how hard it had been to listen to it…  
But he wanted to ask. He _needed_ to.

— Was it something we could…have predicted, Director ?

— 'Predicted', I guess so, I think there is nothing we cannot really think about, but let's say that Karon has used the perfect hysterical scenario to play his part. There is nothing set in stone about that, but I am not the only one thinking that Arturo himself wasn't aware of that bomb's existence. From what we've seen, Karon had already left, but creating that delayed explosion was an additional way to gain time and empty the place. NCIS has a feeling that Karon knew about Arturo's mistake at some point, why he left before we arrived.

Tim carefully listened to every painful words and felt his mouth ready to open again, Leon Vance visibly aware of that new reaction, but both body parts finally joined each other in the middle and closed, sensing that it wasn't the moment. Now he had images again inside his head. Images he wished he could kill and forget about.

— Anything else you want to talk about, Agent McGee, or are you ready to come back on desk duties ? Vance asked as he begun standing up. And desk duties only, am I clear ? he briefly smiled.

Tim only shook his head and politely said goodbye after leaving his seat as well, now approaching the silver door. He thought about the question he had been dying to ask, and the reason why he hadn't done it…from what he had heard from Tony, if Director Vance hadn't switched his place with Agent Thomas before that small bomb exploded, he wouldn't be having that conversation right now. _Nor ever.  
_ Yes, maybe he was too polite for daring doing so, but for the really first time since he had known Vance, he had wanted to ask him how he was feeling about Agent Thomas' death. Everything had an impact on anyone, hadn't it, and the Director of NCIS, as professional as he could be, was certainly not an exception to that rule.  
But it wasn't his role to do so, right, and maybe that sounded stupid, but that was how it was... He pressed the handle and hoped he had planned his appointment early enough. Coming back to NCIS would be supposed to be strange, for sure, but it would certainly be less embarrassing to be already sitting behind his desk rather than directly arriving in front of everyone. Explaining personal things...he _hated_ that. So he closed the door, briefly nodded to the woman behind that big amount of files, and slowly tried to join the stairs.  
He wished he could have walked faster, but there was no need to try doing so, it was nothing more but a waste of time.  
The silhouette, then the lips on the opposite face suddenly stopped him with the strength of their words as he kept moving, Tim instantly feeling his cheeks turning paler, then pinker at the discovery.

— _McGee ? H…_

— H-hi, boss. _How…_

— How are you doing ? the question finally escaped Jethro's mouth.

— Good ! _I'm…_ I'm good.

 _Too fast. He had spoken too fast.  
_ He painfully swallowed and tried keeping a straight position without falling. If only he could escape by simply running away, like when they had a sudden case to work on, and…

— You're ready for work ?

— _I…_ I am, boss. Actually, I have to go downstairs.

— Good. Take your time, alright ? Don't push yourself too hard on your first day.

Tim quickly nodded and begun facing the stairs' direction, thinking fast about that so strange and short conversation, revealing at least his wish to keep walking. If there was no way for his legs to go faster, that was still a way to express himself…  
' _Only a few days_ ' he thought. ' _And I'll physically be alright_.'  
Doctors' words were mostly talking about resting the more possible, and particularly not forcing any useless movement…but maybe if he was taking more painkillers…

 _No, he needed to feel the pain._

He finally begun heading down the stairs, happily noticing that there was no one else from his team at the very moment and that he could psychologically prepare himself before hiding his face behind numerous computer researches…there was something wrong with Gibbs and himself and he knew it, but he didn't want to talk about it.

 _Never._


	11. Body and Smile

— McGee ! Ziva smiled as she walked to his desk, opening both arms.

He wished he could have only said hello from where he was…but maybe he could make an effort on his first day. He didn't want to hurt anyone's feeling.

— _Hi…Ziva_ , he patiently exhaled and smiled back, slowly standing up.

— Look at you, McGee, you really look great !

— Thanks.

— But remember, she stepped back a little and warned him, gazing into his eyes : don't put the cat before the horse, you really need to…

— The 'cart', Ziva, not the 'cat', Tony sighed while approaching his desk in turn, joining the duet.

— Cat, cart…that's all the same anyway. Why do you always have to ruin my mornings…the woman rolled her eyes with exasperation.

— _Uh…nope_ , Miss I-am-now-fully-part-of-your-country, that's definitely not the same ! _Hey, McGee. What's up._

— Hey, Tim simply waved a hand and sat down, glad there wouldn't be anything more than that.

— Oh, shut up, Tony…Ziva continued, I am so tired anyway of you American people.

— _Yeah, tell the Government about that…_

Ziva left McGee's spot and now walked until she completely faced Tony.

— You know what, Tony ? You are the… _perfect_ definition of your country ! Ziva said, clenching her fingers and trying holding back the rage. Controlling the world with stupid, meaningless sentences, then correcting people every time they make a single mistake…

— _That's a British expression…!_ he raised both arms in the air and sighed, finally dropping his bag onto the floor. But let me tell you one thing, 'Miss Independent', why aren't you buying a dictionary and letting me in peace ? You know, to learn the words, and how to use them ! Maybe if you have a richer vocabulary, then you'll finally stop wanting fighting all the time with the unique strength of your fists !

— Yeah, yeah, why don't you talk to my hand, Tony !

— Well, he chuckled and sit down, that's at least, this time, something universal…

Tim briefly chuckled as well from behind his computer, fully appreciating that small moment of non-intellectual relaxation. They probably weren't doing that on purpose, but that was definitely what he needed to begin his day the more normal way possible...but his face instantly turned paler when Ziva suddenly noticed his amusement.  
He swallowed with difficulty and met his terrible gaze from afar.

— Are you saying that you agree with him, Tim ?

— What ? I'm not saying anything, I...

— Do you agree with him, Tim ! she insisted.

— _Uh… I…_

He could notice Tony's large smile on the left side of the bullpen, but that wasn't funny anymore for him. At least, not until she would stop challenging him with the power of her eyes.

— Careful, McGee, she threatened him, having been away from NCIS for a while doesn't mean you'll be treated differently, no, no, no…

— _Told you_ , Tony smiled another time and hid his mouth behind his palm, trying to remain serious.

— I can be patient if I want, she now turned scarier than before, but if you _ever_ considered supporting him and then _dying_ by his side, believe me, you're on the right truck, McGee !

— _AH AH AH AH AH AH AH…!_

The hysterical sound suddenly left Tony's teeth without his consent, the agent not capable anymore to hold back the laugh, both his hands tightening his stomach as he tried not falling from his seat. Ziva's cheeks turned redder than ever at the sight of Tim painfully bitting his lips and Tony turning as crazy as a devil, her whole self now ready to make the building explode with tons of dynamite, letting burn in the flammes the two stupid teammates of hers reacting around.

 _—_ What did I say wrong again ? Come on, how old are you, guys, five ? Stop it, Tony ! she finally ordered. And you too, McGee...!

 _— AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH...!_

 _—_ Tony, I swear I'm gonna kill you if you don't… Tim ! Say something, or…

— T-Tony, stop it. That's…that isn't funny, it's…it's…

He could feel the tears fighting against his eyes in order to join the surface, sweet drops of deserved funny nervousness…although if Ziva had a rocket launcher between her hands, he could swear she would have shot the entire place.  
The tears finally won, probably helped by a visible tiredness, and he then felt the laugh tickling his throat and whole body, joining Tony's already unstoppable symphony.

 _— I'm…I'm sorry, Ziva, but…you…_

It was too much to handle. Too much fun, and it'd been so long since he had actually laughed…

 _— AAAAAAAH…!_ Tony's voice brusquely turned into something similar to a parrot scream, both his hands grabbing his shirt, then banging against his own desk, watching Ziva crazily walk from left to right, mad like hell.

— TONY !

— Sorry, David, he tried controlling his breath, but we should…oh boy, we should definitely make a book of your personal expressions' adaptations…! It's been too long, why...why haven't I ever written anything about them ?

Ziva was pushing both palms against her head, already tired and humiliated by what she'd call later a useless morning, when Abby suddenly entered the bullpen from the other side with a Japanese-style dress, a bowl between hands, noticing the two half crying men.

— Abby, Tim greeted her but kept laughing, the continuous joke contracting his body against his will.

— _Hey, Mc…_ what's happening, guys ? What's so funny ?

— Hey, Abbs, Tony smiled in turn, briefly coughing between two words. We're glad you're here, McGee and I wanted someone else to join our hilarious morning team !

— Well, alright then, she revealed a wide smile, her pair of platforms walking next to Tim's desk. I still have five minutes to kill, and as Ducky usually likes to say : never twice…

— …without rice ?

Tony stopped talking for a second or two after his answer, before hysterically starting laughing again, his face turning really red and sweaty this time, one of his cheeks now pressed up against the desk.

— _Uh…no…_ Abby slowly pronounced, not understanding yet the intensity of the joke.

— Tony, come on, that wasn't that funny, Tim kept crying and shaking, trying to get why it seemed so difficult to be serious again.

— I know…! he said as Abby wrapped her fingers around the chopsticks. But I can't control it !

Ziva loudly groaned and finally decided heading to her desk, desperately willing to focus on anything else but that couple of idiots.

— Uh, when was the last time you guys had some sleep ? And I'm mostly talking to you, Tony, Abby pointed a finger at him, swallowing her food. Come on, where did you get that sound from ?

— _I..._

— Dead Marine found, suspected couple on the run. Ziva, Tony, with me.

Gibbs had suddenly been coming from nowhere, as usual, and now they needed to get ready again to leave the building.

— Work...FINALLY ! Ziva sighed and headed first to the elevator. Come on...how can you actually _sleep_ with women !

— _They love my exceptional sens of humor..._

— Oh, wait, Tony ! Abby said but didn't walk fast enough to catch his arm. Could you please redo what you've been doing, I'd love to use it for my morning alarm !

— Have to go to work, Abbs, he grabbed his backpack and wiped away the drops under his eyes, but finish your breakfast for me, would you ? See ya later, McFun.

— See you, Tony...

The trio entered the elevator and let Abby and Tim alone behind his desk, Ziva and Tony expectedly not saying a word to each other, Gibbs standing right in the middle, silent and neutral.

— Where did we find him, boss ? Tony finally asked after clearing his throat.

— Fifty kilometers from here. And you ?

— _Me_ , boss ? Found what ?

— Where did you find that laugh ? In the depths of Hell ?

Ziva immediately smiled again and Tony didn't say a thing until they accessed the vehicle outside, Gibbs secretly chuckling at the memory of the previous conversation he had secretly heard, facing the silver doors.

 _Ziva and words…the funniest thing ever._


	12. Bad memories are darkening my days

— What do we have, Ducky ?

— Ah, Jethro…how are you doing, today ?

The ME took a brief look at Gibbs before understanding the uselessness of his question, so he just refocused again on the body next to him and pointed a finger at it, Jimmy by his side.

— Cause of death : dehydration, Jethro. No need of a single bullet. The death is in my opinion quite recent, maybe four hours ago, but again, I will know more about it once this man will be lying on one of my autopsy tables. Looks like our man has been forced to sit under the sun for quite a long time, I would say. These burns around his torso, wrists, waist and ankles are the result of him being tied up to that tree over there, where Mr Palmer and I found him earlier.

— He stayed up all this time ? Wow, that must have been pretty uncomfortable...Tony revealed a grimace.

— Yes, my dear Anthony, sometimes human beings are capable of the worst things, which is why we have to do our best in order to give them the justice and respect they deserve.

— He could be a criminal as well, Ziva dared suggesting. Wearing the uniform doesn't mean he does deserve respect.

— Until evidence to the contrary, my dear Ziva, Ducky's face turned a bit redder than before, we have to do what we are paid to do and most of all, what his our _duty_.

Gibbs didn't say anything and only looked at the traces around the skin of the dead Marine, these marks reminding him of these same ropes in that very dirty place, that chair he had been tied up to, watching Tim suffer…his gaze was neutral and emotionlessly staring at something, as usual, but Ducky could perfectly notice the ghost in the eyes of his friend, although he didn't mention it.

— Hopefully, an easy case to solve, Jethro, Ducky continued. As you can see, there are some visible skin cells under our Marine's nails, certainly the consequence of a previous fight.

— The corner of this nail is broken, Agent Gibbs, Jimmy added, our man didn't seem to have given up easily.

— Still not enough to survive, Jethro suddenly furrowed his brows and sighed, the two men next to him not knowing how they should understand the comment. _Tony_ , he finally said and turned back : pictures. _Ziva_ : go and take a look around, see if you can find any element within one kilometer, or anyone that could have seen anything. We still have a couple on the run. Find the witnesses.

— On it, boss, Tony immediately reacted.

— Same here, Ziva spoke from afar.

Gibbs dived both his hands in his pockets and stared at the beautiful landscape, wondering why on earth there could be such horrific crimes in such a great place...he had never really paid attention to all these meteorological details before, but now it seemed so sad that he couldn't think about anything else.  
It was almost exactly like during Agent Thomas' funerals, the weather was perfect and warm, trees and leaves were full of fruits and beautiful colors, he could even hear the birds singing as well…  
So _why_ ? Why wasn't there always any expected rain, thunder, or ugly spaces for bad things to happen when it came for NCIS to find dead people…

 _—…hey, boss._

 _— Yeah, McGee…_

 _— You got it ?_

 _— Yeah._

 _— Alright._

 _He discreetly grabbed it from the opposite hands and didn't ask how okay the man could be next to him, nor even talked about how they both would manage to escape after that...now all he wanted and had to do was trying, over and over again.  
He pressed both thumbs on the different buttons and hoped for something very, very positive to happen. _

_— 'Parámetros' ?_

 _— Settings, Gibbs whispered._

 _— So I guess 'mensajes' are…_

 _— Yes, McGee._

 _— Alright, he heavily breathed in and out, trying to figure things out._

— _Quickly, McGee._

 _— What, you really want to tell me how to use a beeper, boss ?_

 _— A what ?_

 _— Yeah, that's what I thought._

 _Tim kept pressing his fingers on top of different buttons, avoiding accents and symbols he had clearly no need, nor any idea about, depressingly watching the 'batería baja' flashing on a tiny corner of the gadget._

 _— Come on, come on, come on…he begged the item._

 _— Can we really send a message to someone with this ?_

 _— Come on, boss, this is technically more from your gener...yes, he gave up his explanation, let's say you can send a message anywhere, if you let me work on it. And Abby has a beeper too._

 _— Abby ?_

 _— Aliens stuff, boss._

 _Gibbs suddenly heard the several steps walking in their direction…he could sense the bad excitement and tension flying all around, and he was definitely not enjoying it. Tim and him had just arrived in that dark, awful place after numerous proofs of violence from the whole Karon's team, so if one thing was for sure about these people visiting them, it was that they wouldn't be here to talk about the weather._

 _— Did you send it, McGee ? he instantly stepped back and asked in a hurry, creating some physical distance between them._

 _— That thing isn't settled for America, boss, and the 'low battery' is only making things worst…_

 _— Too late for that, McGee. Hide that damn thing on you, they're coming to take us._

…a dark silhouette suddenly hid the sun from his sight, undefinable shadow of someone with a camera between his palms.

 _—_ Boss, everything alright ?

— Did you take your pictures, Dinozzo ? Gibbs left his previous thoughts and asked, some angriness in the tone of his voice.

— Yeah, boss. I've taken all the pictures. Ziva is coming back as well. Nothing to report.

— What do you mean, Tony ? _Where_ are the people who called us ?

— _Nowhere_ , Gibbs, Ziva finally approached him. I bet they got scared, because whoever they were...they vanished.


	13. We'll find him

_— Calling someone, Agent McGee ? You just arrived, and you already want to leave ? Well, I really do not appreciate my visitors trying to sneak out..._

 _— ...Aaaaah !_

 _The sound had been sudden and the pain unexpected. At least, not like this._

— _McGee…! Jethro said, trying to help him, but he_ _felt the hands pushing his torso away, violently inviting him to remain calmer, so he powerlessly watched the dirty shoe leave Tim's five fingers after crushing them, and wondered how many of them could possibly be broken._

 _They really hadn't expected this._

 _— I wouldn't approach if I was you, Agent Gibbs ! Karon suddenly ordered, a baseball bat pointed at him. Unless you're interested in receiving the same treatment, he finally added, delectably clenching his own phalanges, as if to mock his previous victim. Arturo, he turned back and now stared at his right-hand man, not minding anymore the other agent of the floor, I think that stupid thing is yours._

 _He slowly raised it next to his eyes before slapping the man's face with a cold and confident palm, Arturo then silently covering the new redness of his skin in obscurity, still staring at Karon. Farid finally let the item fall onto the floor and took a pitiful look at McGee, half a devious expression instantly coloring his face._

 _— I am quite a perfectionist, you know. So maybe if I was equalizing…_

 _— NO…!_

 _Karon slightly lifted his leg and violently pushed his foot against the floor, McGee immediately taking his other hand away from the dangerous space, before watching the beeper getting crushed under the criminal's sole. Farid then bent down a little, checking his men were still protecting Gibbs from doing anything bad, and grabbed the now damaged gadget between fingers, evil smile vanishing from his face._

 _— I guess your family's gonna have to wait a little bit, Arturo. I do not like working with incapables. Now keep an eye on your thing, my friend, or this won't be the only thing I'll break..._

…He noticed the dark feet approaching his desk and wondered if there was any new update about the current case.

— We'll find him, McGee.

— _Who ?_ he seemed to be leaving his thoughts. Sorry, the one who killed the Marine you've just found ? What about him ?

He instinctively followed Gibbs' eyes direction as he obviously got no answer in return, and finally realized what his boss was really looking at. He observed his palms and focused on their strange action.  
It was as if he had decided to suddenly rub his hands without even _knowing_ it, by the simple help of his memories…who could know for how long he had been doing this in front of witnesses.

— _Sorry,_ he simply said and took both body parts away from each other, now nicely feeling the keyboard keys under his fingertips again.

— Don't be, Gibbs neutrally said.

— Okay, then.

Gibbs silently, but still heavily breathed in and out, furrowing his brows, but not moving away from the front of Tim's desk…his agent had gone back to work, whatever he was doing behind that computer, or at least _pretending_ doing. He looked completely exhausted, although he hadn't say a thing about his physical condition, nor even complained about the fact that he still might be stuck in here for quite a long time.

— Hey, McGee.

— Yes, boss ? Tim almost looked indifferent. You needed anything ?

— We'll find him, is that clear ?

— Alright, boss, he simply reacted again, hiding his face behind his screen another time.

Gibbs slightly moved his face and legs, uselessly replacing his feet onto the floor, as if something was bothering him… He took a step forward and waited for his agent to raise his head again in his direction.

— 'Alright' ?

— _Boss, I…_ McGee instantly tried to speak, visibly bored, his cheeks briefly turning a bit pinker than before.

— We're gonna catch him, McGee, and until we do, you have nothing to worry about. You know everyone is now keeping an eye on you, so if he ever tries to…

— It's okay, boss, please do not make this about you, just...

— Not a personal case, McGee, is that a joke ? Did you forget what this man has done to you ?

— Both of us, Gibbs. Not only me.

Gibbs furrowed his brows again and took a closer look at his agent, worried.  
 _But what had he been thinking about...that it would be easy ?_

— _McGee_ , he insisted, we need to talk.

— I do not want to find him, boss, that's all ! he brusquely interrupted him and shocked him, although there was no violence in the tone of his voice. Now I have to work on the current case, and I have several forms to fill out before sending them.

Jethro processed the unbelievable information and almost immediately tried retorting anything, but Abby unexpectedly called Tim's desk and interrupted any potential future debate.  
...Tim didn't need to be asked twice to go down and leave the bullpen and Gibbs, and Jethro then silently wondered about what to do in order to make his agent talk.


	14. Ducky's opinion

— _You're a dead man, Agent McGee. I've got my eye on you now, so I want you to know that whatever you'll do in order to survive, it will never be enough…_

— Enough, McGee.

' _Enough, McGee_ '…was it part of the memory ?  
Tim slightly shook his head to the right, trying to understand why these additional few words were now resonating in his ears as well.

— _McGee_ , the unknown voice repeated, stop. _Hey_ , stop, that same someone insisted, arms gently grabbing his wrists.

Tim stopped mumbling and blinked twice, facing the furnitures all around. Table. Chair. Papers...where was he, already ? And what was he doing exactly ?

— What…who is it ? he suddenly jumped and shyly asked, still not really aware of what was happening. Oh sorry, boss, he slowly said, facing Jethro with tiredness, I was…

— You were, McGee ?

— I was…working on this, boss, he finally raised a yellow file in the air, bringing back his previous memory to life, I guess I must have fell asleep at some point.

Gibbs worriedly sighed, but didn't comment yet, silently and deeply gazing into Tim's eyes, thinking again about the fact that they really should talk. He watched the young man nervously gathering some papers...maybe he could try now having a conversation with him and see how far they'd go. After all, it'd been only three days since he had restarted coming to NCIS, and he was already having nightmares at work.

— That _wasn't_ professional, I'm _really_ sorry, and it won't happen again, boss, Tim suddenly justified his behavior, as if he had perfectly guessed Gibbs' thoughts.

— Working in the rest area, McGee ? Why, you don't like your desk anymore ?

— It's just... _no_ , boss, but I was sitting alone over there, so I thought...

— You thought you'd be better alone somewhere else ?

— No, I...

Tim tried continuing his explanation but finally found himself completely speechless, already bored of Gibbs' so expected insistence and simply hoping now for a miracle, but someone suddenly arrived from the other side to interrupt them, and he then felt like God, or anyone like Him had decided to save him from that awkward situation.

— _Ducky_ , he almost smiled.

— What are you doing here, Duck ?

— _Ah…Timothy_ , the ME ruined Jethro's moment, fully entering the space, I was looking for you. I just wanted talking to you for a minute, as I am not extremely busy at the moment. In fact, I have been taking the liberty to have a look at your prescription, oh, I do hope this is alright…

— It's alright, Ducky, I don't mind.

 _Anything. Anything that would make him stay here a bit longer…until he could leave, himself._

— Good, good…the ME smiled, now I feel better about that. Because I thought there might be another medicine I could ask your doctor to give you next time, only if you are interested. Oh, this is basically the same type of painkillers, although the new ones I would advise you could certainly help you getting rid of a few secondary effects, like nausea, or...oh, but maybe it is already too late ?

— Too late for what ? Tim tried to follow the conversation, tired as hell.

— Well, I guess you've already renewed your prescription, so maybe you can keep taking your current painkillers until you have taken them all, and then we can talk again about replacing them, he smiled.

— Uh, no, I'm good for now. I still have a few more to take, so please, if you have new ones to advise me, I don't mind.

— Very good, Timothy, I will send you the informations very soon, then.

Tim briefly smiled again and suddenly took a look at his watch, eyes focused on the numbers. He revealed a surprised facial emotion and prepared himself to move from behind the table. That was the moment, the perfect opportunity to run away.

— Oh my, is that the time, already ? Wow, I should really get back to work. Send me whatever you need, Ducky, he nicely added before leaving. Boss...I see you later.

...Gibbs remained silent and watched his agent walk away from them as his ME simply waved a hand in the agent's direction, discreetly sighing with desperation. Ducky finally turned his head and waited for the two of them to be completely alone before speaking to his old friend and colleague.

— Even the deepest silences can send the clearest messages, Jethro, so maybe you can share with me what seems to be bothering you that much about Timothy, and maybe we can talk about it.

— He's not ready, Duck.

— Well, I do agree with you, which is why our dear Timothy is currently working on desk duties…

— No, I mean he's not ready for NCIS. Not yet.

— Give him some time, Jethro, and I think as well that you should do the same.

Ducky reflexively nodded as if to close the topic and slowly begun walking away, gently pressing a palm against Jethro's shoulder before leaving…Gibbs didn't move from where he was standing but still seemed to have something on his mind, so Ducky stopped in the corner and waited for an expected question.

— Anything else you would like to tell me, Jethro...?

— What's wrong with McGee's prescription ? he neutrally asked.

— Well, if you ask, I guess you already got the answer to your question, Jethro.

— What's wrong, Duck ? Gibbs furrowed both his brows and sighed another time, finally approaching the ME. You've seen his prescription, you think he should have already renewed it ?

Ducky took a step forward and gazed into Gibbs' blue eyes.

— Oh no, Jethro, I know where you are going, and I will not help you with that. There might be several reasons for Timothy to not have already renewed his painkillers' prescription, and they could be very positive ones, such as the fact that he could be healing faster than expected and then not needing that much medicines, or…

— …or it can be negative ones.

Ducky gently put a palm on top of Gibbs' wrist and immediately continued his speech, hoping to be clear enough.

— Tim has been through a lot recently, _as you did_ , my dear Jethro, but as long as he does not start amputating his own arm or planning on jumping from a window, I will _not_ interfere in his life with my questions concerning his dosages. Timothy is human like us all, and he now needs to face the trauma his own way, I mean in addition to the help provided by his numerous appointments and friends meetings, so feel free to have a talk with him if you sense that it might be helping him, but do not bother him with anything that might be giving him any additional worries.

— Alright, Doc, Gibbs sighed and gave up. No questions. _For now._


	15. Interrogation Time

— _Gibbs_ , Ziva called him when both silver doors freed her from the silver cage, we've found the man matching with the picture Abby discovered in the system.

— _Gibbs !_ Abby's face suddenly appeared in the middle of Tim's computer screen, as if she'd heard the agents talking about her.

— What do you have, Abbs ? he instantly questioned her, not minding both his male agents' almost heart attacks.

— _What, that's all ? You always come to the lab when I have something, what on earth were you doing ! Anyway_ , she continued, scared to death by the pair of blue eyes now focused on her, _the man we were looking for and found is the Admiral Louis Gregson._

— And the woman ?

— There was one with him inside the car when we arrested him, Ziva continued, his wife, but as there was no DNA of hers on our dead Marine, we cannot know for sure if she was part of the crime.

— No one is innocent until a proof of the contrary, he neutrally commented.

— Uh...isn't it supposed to be the opposite, boss ? Tony asked.

Ziva didn't wait for his answer and immediately approached Gibbs' spot, grabbing the small remote control between fingers, revealing the pictures of the Admiral and his wife.

— They're coming to NCIS any minute, we'll be able to interrogate them, but whoever she is, Gibbs, we already have our man.

— Alright, bring them to the room when they get here. _Tony_ , with me. _Ziva, McGee._

— Yes, boss ?

— I need more infos about our dead Marine. If our lovers decide to not talk, I need to know if there is any link between them.

— Alright, Gibbs.

— By the way, good job, Abby, Jethro added. I owe you a drink.

The pale face positively agreed and both dark ponytails suddenly disappeared from the screen while Tim and Ziva immediately begun searching for additional informations on their computers, Tony starting leaving his spot in order to follow Jethro. The presence of a smile on his lips was quite an easy thing to guess and picture, in fact there was no need to actually see it to know it was there, and Gibbs perfectly knew why... His agent expectedly approached Ziva with a new quote in mind, now pointing a flirty finger at her.

— « Hell, you might just be the best damn girl in Texas ».

— What are you talking about _again_ , the woman sighed, briefly turning her face away from her screen.

— Seriously, David ? _Bonny and Clyde_ ? Doesn't ring a bell to you ?

— And who are they…she boringly asked.

— Bank robbers on the run, Tony rolled his eyes. Come on, David, you know, _the movie…_ it makes me think of the couple, because…

— _Dinozzo !_

 _—_ You know what, Ziva ? Forget it.

— What the hell are you talking about, Tony, I'm trying to work… _What_ , Gibbs, she finally stared at him and spoke from afar, did our couple rob a bank in DC ? Why didn't I know about that ?

 _— Oh my God…!_

Tony rolled his eyes for the second time and finally begun leaving the bullpen for good, feeling desperate. He could hear Tim quickly giving a bigger explanation concerning the movie to the female agent, Ziva still not really understanding why they were having this conversation…  
' _Mossad people_ ' he thought. ' _Don't they ever watch TV ?_ '

— — — — — — — —

( _Later, that same day..._ )

Ducky entered the dark room and gently greeted Tim, approaching the agent and the large mirror in front him. He could see Gibbs sitting next to the silver table, ready to be scary, his so famous serious face looking at the Admiral, Tony simply standing still in the corner, watching. Had this case really been _that_ easy ?  
He observed the scene a bit more before finally trying to start some kind of casual conversation.

— Two men in uniform showing respect to each other…quite a heavy atmosphere, indeed, the ME chuckled. Where is the wife ?

— In the bullpen with Ziva, waiting for her turn.

— Before a future more conventional talk, I guess, Ducky chuckled again. I hope she is truly prepared for that eventuality. I know Jethro do not believe in coincidences.

— That's for sure, Tim smiled.

The medical examiner took a discreet look at the agent next to him and silently analyzed him. The moment was pretty strange, as Tim seemed to be quite…unfazed, actually. Not especially cheerful, but not looking _that bad_ either…in fact, quite secret. Ducky did not expect less from Timothy, but he wished somehow he could have had more infos, or at least some emotional reactions from the young man that could have indicated him anything about how he could feel. He sighed and hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Yes, trying to be strong with no interruption was certainly a very honorable thing to do, but what was usually kept too secret inside a man's brain and heart, especially after such a trauma, was often creating unpredictable nightmares and worries.

— It is good sometimes to be able to watch, Ducky continued and smiled, Jethro being quite an interesting character to observe during interrogations, although I still have the impression that too-easy cases are making me feel bored and giving me too much free time.

He ended his sentence and sadly watched Tim only briefly smiling back, before focusing again on the accusation going on.  
The agent could see Gibbs' curiosity and disappointment as he was asking questions with Tony on the other side of the glass.

— I perfectly know what our dear Anthony would say : The women is guilty !

Another chuckle from the ME, in addition with a confident finger pointed at the ceiling of the room, and still that so tiny and only respectful smile from Tim in return, the agent not commenting anyhow what had just been said, nor even joking about that funny imitation of Tony...so they just kept watching and listening to the dialogue and few other threats coming out from Gibbs' mouth, learning more about what would be the reason for the Marine's murder.

— _Love…_ Ducky finally said and exhaled after some time, staring at the Admiral Gregson through the glassy rectangle. One of the only reasons why people are ready to kill or die for. But as they say : "The heart has its reasons that the reason ignores."

He then took a gentle look at Tim after what could have been defined like an umpteenth speech and waited for a reaction or a word, but again, he only got a very brief smile in return, and then… _nothing._


	16. The Gregsons' case

— Where is my husband, Agent David ? And why am I here ?

— Other agents are interrogating him at the very moment, Mrs Gregson.

— But why ? What does he have to do with that man ?

Ziva didn't answer the question and slowly revealed a picture of the dead Marine, the second accused observing the multiple red lines around the numerous body parts that had been tied up to that tree. Mrs Gregson seemed to be pretty shocked at the sight of them, but Ziva didn't show any kind of empathy.

— Why did your husband and yourself run away from the crime scene, Mrs Gregson ? We were called by witnesses telling us they'd found the body and seen two people…

— Two people ? Oh, and so this _necessarily_ has to be us ?

— We've found DNA under our Marine's nails, your husband's DNA, why we brought you both to NCIS.

The woman suddenly turned paler and looked sicker than before, as if there was something she had just realized and processed, wondering if she could really believe in what she thought. Ziva gazed into the woman's eyes and tried to find out what she could be hiding, although she almost acted nicely, this time.

— Mrs Gregson, is there anything you would like to tell me ? Ziva gently asked, discreetly starting touching the handcuffs around her belt.

— Well, she paused and hesitated, _I…_

— You what ? Ziva asked and then patiently waited, watching the woman take a sip of her drink, painfully swallowing the liquid in order to maybe free the truth.

— I think my husband found him... Alright, _listen._ I was having an affair, Agent David, she sighed and hesitated to keep talking, and I am not really proud of this, but…but I think Louis found out about him. _I…_ Oh my God. _Oh my God_ , she repeated, nervouser.

Ziva felt her own fingers stroking the edges of these same handcuffs of hers, the silver metal getting softer than usual as she half lifted them with her fingertips… ' _Got you_ ' she thought, ready for the best part of the arrest.

— That's enough, Mrs Gregson.

— I am not lying, Agent David ! the woman suddenly turned a bit madder, reflexively touching the glassy paper of the dead Marine's picture.

— _So what_ , Mrs Gregson ? You were having an affair and your husband must have find out about that. _Great_ , so now what ? How do you explain your presence with him and…

— No, no, no, you do _not_ understand, Agent David.

The Admiral's wife pressed both palms against her skull, thinking, so Ziva tried revealing a more peaceful facial expression, finally only closing her mouth, eyes focused on the woman in front of her. She was ready to grab them, these two silver circles, all she needed to do now what to obtain a confession.

— I wasn't there with my husband, I promise.

— Are you really sure about that ? Ziva suddenly challenged her, because we have witnesses who say the opposite and can confirm your presence.

The woman heavily sighed but kept calmly looking into the agent's eyes, determined and confident.

— So now I know you're bluffing, she lowly pronounced.

— And why that, if I may ?

— Because there isn't a single chance for me to have been there on that day, Agent David.  
— — — — — — — —

— ...hey, boss, we've got our man ? Tim asked as Gibbs entered the other room, now watching the Admiral talk to Tony.

He could tell that Gibbs was still thinking about the interrogation that had just been going on, observing the accused's face from behind that large rectangle… ' _What a mess,_ _again'_ Jethro would certainly say.  
But Ducky interrupted the recent memory going on in Gibbs' mind and expressed his impatience to know more about the woman's testimony upstairs, finally waving a hand in order to say goodbye to both his friends and colleagues.

— Hey…boss, Tim repeated, briefly looking at his watch, do you mind if I come home now ? I mean, I know the day isn't exactly over, but there are a few things I would like to do and check at my apartment…

— You alright, McGee ?

— I am, boss, he smiled. _Really._ I just…spent most of the day doing researches and filling forms, and I still have a million others things to finish before I could hope to go to bed. I can definitely come earlier tomorrow morning, boss, I really don't care, he almost immediately added.

— No, Gibbs neutrally said. No need, McGee. Just go home. Do your things.

— Thanks, boss, Tim sighed with relief and smiled again. I see you tomorrow, then.

Gibbs briefly tapped his palm on top of his agent's shoulder and watched him leave the space he had himself just entered, taking an umpteenth look at the Admiral Gregson on the other side, Tony gathering papers and ready to leave as well, asking a last question… Would this case be as easy as expected ? Well, for once he guessed so. They hadn't been able to find much about them, if he had to be honest. Anyway, it still was quite nice that Tim had expressed his wish to come home. After all, he had done his best the whole day and hadn't complained about a thing, in addition with the fact that he had been perfectly honest concerning his need to keep organizing his things, whatever they were. Maybe a very little improvement, but still one, he thought…they had spent days looking for the Admiral and his wife before finding them, so McGee definitely deserved some time off, just like the rest of the team.  
— — — — — — — —

...Tim tiredly entered his building and walked to his own door, finally turning the key in the lock. _What a day._  
Quite normal in fact, not too good, not too bad. Just…very normal. That sounded weird, right ? Very weird.  
He entered the dark place and switched on the light of a small lamp near the wall, momentarily standing still near the entrance before closing the door, observing in the end the different pieces of furniture and rooms from that same spot he was still uselessly waiting in.  
 _But waiting for what ?_

— _A million things to do, McGee, really ?_ Gibbs' face and body suddenly appeared from nowhere, the man sitting in a chair not surprising the agent. _You're lying, McGee_ , the voice continued before the silhouette of Gibbs disappeared from his sight, as if it had never existed before.

Tim only discreetly sighed and slowly headed to his room, taking care of switching off that same small lamp he had just briefly lightened...he then entered his personal space, quickly took off his shoes and silently lied down on his bed in the dark, facing obscurity.

' _I just want to die_ ' he thought, voluntarily feeling again the pain caused by his numerous damaged muscles.


	17. Busy and none of your business

( _That same night..._ )

« _McGregor found himself trapped in that place as if he had been trapped inside a cage, silent witness of the horrors the world had to give and make him discover, the bad guy holding Tibbs' life as well between his bloody hands…that was it. That was the end.  
_ _McGregor could feel the pain inside his arms and legs softly pushing him to the point of no return, broken bones hurting him as much as the psychological pain he was now forced to embrace and endure…_ »

Tim stopped writing for a minute and took a look at his tired arms, feeling the pain he was currently adding on the paper, that same, exact suffering he was expressing here and now thanks to his typewriter…by the way, what time could it be ?

 _3:50 in the morning. Whatever._

No sleep at all was still better than two hours of sleep that'd make him feel even more exhausted. At least he was constant. Constant concerning the fact that he was not sleeping, but still constant.  
Tim stood up after a short hesitation and begun preparing some coffee, watching his pot with strange eyes, knowing it really wasn't part of his habits…one coffee was okay from time to time, especially when it was truly _necessary_ , but all in all, it was definitely not his thing. Tim kept preparing his drink and thought of what he had just been doing after his previous awful bed scene, wondering if there was something more that he could do. This new chapter he had been writing had certainly made him feel more depressed that he was already feeling, but one thing still remained for sure : it was keeping him busy.  
All this rage he could express, all these things that had hurt him so much and were so hard to explain…they were still having the same impact on him, if not even a worst one sometimes, but again : writing was keeping him _busy_.  
Not thinking anymore, or at least not that much and that bad, not facing that so awful and terrible silence in the night always waiting for him like demons in deep obscurity…  
Tim stared at his coffee machine for some additional minutes, smelling the heavy perfume of the beans all around the place, trying to focus on something else the time necessary… He heard the final beep and knew he was ready for two more hours.  
' _Here we go_ ' he thought.

« … _McGregor was ready to face death and say goodbye to that world he wasn't recognizing anymore, noticing the blood puddles all around him, their heavy smell and red color, their sweet perfume…_ »

Tim drank a few sip of his coffee and momentarily put his attention on how it smelled, and on how dark that warm liquid looked…he put his cup back on top of his desk and kept writing.

« _Water. That was all he needed. Even poisoned water could have suited him perfectly. He was ready to die and embrace darkness, but all he needed now was some fresh liquid to momentarily hydrate his tongue, briefly make him feel stronger before the end. The men in dark uniforms were approaching them in order to kill them, and he would give his life to finally have the opportunity to die…_ »

Tim couldn't stop writing and perfectly knew that nothing could stop him. No one, nor anything in the world could ever stand a chance against him. He pressed his fingertips on top of several letters and slowly pressed them again, watching new words revealing themselves along the paper. _  
_  
« … _Tibbs held the gun in front of McGregor and wondered what they would tell him to do.  
— Shoot, Agent Tibbs, the voice ordered.  
_ _— I won't, he said, that same expression hiding his emotions to the world, feeling in the center of his palm the material ready to be used.  
_ _— What if I give my permission ? McGregor suddenly asked. Will you ?  
_ _Tibbs revealed a slightly different face this time, the face of someone troubled by the interruption. He had never met someone like this in his life, someone so ready to die._ »

Tim hesitated on a word or two before finally stopping and slowly rubbing his face, filling up another cup with colder coffee, taking a brief look at his watch…were the two more hours already gone ?

— _Oh boy_ , he freaked out.

He immediately grabbed his gun and badge and headed to the exit, turning the key in the lock with tiredness in order to free himself, then closing his door the same way once he joined the corridor...  
He ran outside and nervously entered his vehicle. Gibbs would definitely kill him and dance over his dead body if he was not hurrying.  
— — — — — — — —

— Are you kidding, David ?

— That's what she told me, Tony, stop bothering me with this !

— Oh come on, Ziva, you should _definitely_ have told me about her earlier, she looks _fantastic_ ! Grrrr, real women, these women. So wild and so _…_

—…busy ?

— _Yeah, you bet she's bus…_ oh, hi, boss ! Tony said but couldn't avoid the head slap provided by Gibbs, now picturing Mrs Gregson completely differently.

— Where's McGee ? Jethro asked.

( _Ding…_ )

— I'm here, boss ! So sorry I'm late.

Tim almost ran to his desk and immediately sat behind it, everyone noticing the large circles under his eyes but not saying anything about it, the young agent switching on his computer, ready for work. He double-clicked on a file he had been working on the day before and immediately focused on anything available.

— _Eww…_ what did you do, McThirsty, you opened a coffee factory ? You smell like French people in the morning.

— Thank you Tony, Tim ironically smiled, faking his enjoyment, but I have been busy, that's all.

— Well, seems like everybody has been 'busy', these days, Ziva said, insisting on the word.

— _Yeah…_ Tony deviously chuckled, especially Mrs Gregson…

— _Dinozzo !_

— Uh, yes, boss ? he suddenly sat up and immediately cleared his throat.

— _Why don't you just shut up and get back to work !_

— Y-yes, boss ! Tony instantly reacted and did so, watching Gibbs leave the bullpen, now angrily facing Tim and Ziva's very satisfied smiles…


	18. First confrontation

—…I really don't get it. This woman has a full-time job and still has time to hook up with several men ?

— Some women have an active sexual life, Tony, there is nothing surprising about that, Ziva said and sat down, switching on her computer.

— Well, it can't be _that_ active, David, especially after such long days of work.

— What's wrong, Tony, are you that frustrated of being tired when you come home ? Do you have to cancel some of your appointments with ladies ?

— Oh, shut up, Ziva, I was just saying that…

— _Then just snap out of it, Dinozzo !_ Gibbs suddenly appeared from nowhere, like almost every mornings, you'll discuss and work things out about your sexual life when you'll have time to do so.

— Y-yes boss, Tony nervously smiled and stopped talking, obediently sitting in turn behind his desk.

Gibbs discreetly took a look at Tim's empty spot, wondering where his agent could be...McGee's life was quite a mystery, these days. He took his phone out of his pocket and begun dialing a number, before hanging up.

— Hey boss, Tim suddenly arrived from the other side, remember that footprint you've found near our dead Marine ? We just checked the size with Abby : 10,5. Unfortunately, our Admiral's one is 12.

— Maybe it's not related. And our Marine fought with the Admiral Gregson, Ducky confirmed it, that's enough to keep him.

— Well… _not_ _exactly_ , boss, Tim sighed. We checked his career with Abby, not a single warning, perfect record. Jury might be a bit suspicious at first, but his lawyer will point out the fact that a simple fight isn't a proof of murder. We have nothing else against him, boss, not a single indication that would tell us he has followed our Marine these last few weeks, before his death, _nothing_. He was still on a mission until recently, so I'm not saying he didn't know anything about his wife, but if he did, well, we cannot prove it yet.

Gibbs sighed and took a look at the bullpen, lost in his thoughts. They had the dead body, the DNA under his nails, the certitude that the Admiral's wife had been having an affair with that Marine…so why did things started being complicated again ? Maybe he didn't know what he wanted, or maybe he just wanted an easy case, for once, in order to focus on other things.

— Go interrogate him with Tony, McGee. That's our last chance.

Both his agents simply nodded in return and begun heading to the interrogation room, Tim closing the file he had been carrying open between fingers, Tony reflexively tapping his shoulder before leaving.  
They'd catch the bad guy…eventually.  
— — — — — — — —

…Tony watched the accused sitting and briefly took a look in the large mirror's direction, showing his face to the people he couldn't see behind that glassy rectangle, Gibbs silently nodding in return to the agent who couldn't see him either.

— Admiral Gregson, Tim finally neutrally started speaking, I am the Agent McGee, and I'll ask you a few questions about the case. So…could you tell me again how did the two of you know each other ?

— I already said it a million times…the man sighed. He was pretty close to some friends of mine. We met again at some parties and became friends in turn with him, my wife and I. I just guess she enjoyed their friendship even more than I did.

— Nice thought...so that's why you killed him, right ? Tony asked and smiled.

Tim reopened the file and got ready to show him the pictures again. He briefly stared, himself, at the ropes and burns around the dead Marine's body but didn't show any emotions about them, although Gibbs could perfectly notice the slight hesitation in his hand's movement.

— I already told Agent Gibbs the other day, and you too, Agent Dinozzo. I found him home when I came back. I didn't _actually_ found them together, if you know what I mean, he was...he was leaving the front door, but I had this feeling, deep down, that something had happened, and we…well, we had an altercation. But it didn't last long. It was a 'moment thing', and we were in the middle of the street. So I just let him go.

— So that's all ? Tim asked. You fought with him and finally 'let him go' after you suspected your wife and him had an affair ?

The Admiral approached both his fists on top of the table, gazing into Tim's eyes. The young agent could see the certitude on his face, the desire for things to get better, but as Gibbs was always saying : no one was innocent until they could get a proof of the contrary.

— Agent McGee, I have been a respected Admiral for several years, and I do not intend to kill people for personal reasons. Call it craziness if you want, but that's how it was : I immediately left the house with my wife and booked a room in a hotel out of town, paid by cash, but you already know that. I was still a married man, and I wanted to be able to talk with my wife about what would be next, I _deserved_ informations. But you finally found my DNA, right ? You've found my car, and arrested me. I didn't 'run away', like you said. That's only what you thought.

— My father was an Admiral as well, Tim suddenly said, the Admiral John McGee.

— I knew your name was ringing a bell to me. A great man, from what I've heard. You must have respected him a lot.

— _I did_ , Tim nodded. Sometimes, maybe more than I should have. He was, to me, that unfazed man who was always following the rules, the codes...but if there is one thing I've learned from that father-son relationship, Tim's facial expression turned a little darker, it is that everyone is human. A rank can define your status in your career, but that doesn't make you perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, Admiral Gregson, there is no exception for the ones wearing the uniform.

Tony kept listening to the interesting dialogue and watched the accused from his spot, the man taking another look at the pictures, thinking…he could see some visible pain in his eyes, but some kind of gratitude as well.

— Anything you would like to tell us ? Tony asked, leaving the shade, approaching the silver table.

— _Listen_ , Agent McGee, the Admiral Gregson clearly spoke and only focused on him, not minding the second man by his side, I never had children and then cannot pretend I would know how to handle your own past situation, but I know who I am, and I didn't do anything. Of course I was mad, even so much more than that, mad at my wife, at this man, at myself, but if I really could have done something of that kind, I would only have tortured him to death, and…

— Don't say that.

The sentence unexpectedly left Tim's mouth, and this, without his consent, neutral and non-violent, soft and reflexively pronounced...Tony immediately took another step forward and stared at the accused, irony in his voice.

— Yes, Admiral. You should take that advice as a good one...if you do not want things to turn worse for you very soon.

These simple words were enough for Tim to fully come to his sense, although the calm, slightly pale expression was still clearly present on his face, as if he'd just been waking up from a misty dream…  
But something finally slightly changed in his eyes and he then kept listening in the end, as if nothing had ever happened.

— Agent McGee, Agent Dinozzo, the Admiral continued his explanation, not minding the previous recent interruption, what I was saying was that the worst thing I could have done to this man would have been to have made him pay for what he did. But I'd _never_ kill a man for such reason, and this because I am _not_ a murderer.

Tim listened until the end and kept his eyes focused on the man for some additional time, trying to dig deeper inside his mind and maybe know more about his thoughts, while Tony discreetly sighed with relief, neutrally glancing at Gibbs through the glassy rectangle...Jethro glancing back at him without a word.


	19. Who am I ?

Gibbs quickly left the other room, Ziva by his side, thinking.  
Fighting with a man who had slept with his wife, if he could really call it a 'fight', and letting that man go…even the less violent people on earth would at least have punched him once or twice for that reason. Yes, never trusting nobody was an official rule to follow, even when it came to someone wearing the uniform, but still, the Admiral Louis Gregson had reacted way too calmly to look ready to murder anyone.

— So, what do you think, boss ? Tony interrupted his thoughts and asked, standing in the corridor.

— I don't think that's our man, Gibbs neutrally said and sighed.

— Yeah, I have to say I think the same.

— Wife is guilty, then ?

— I don't know either, boss.

Tony dived both his hands in his pockets and took a look at the closed interrogation room, remembering what had just been said. So many questions now...and it had been such an easy case to solve at the very beginning. _How tiring_.

— Well, where is McGee ? Ziva finally asked, looking for him. Wasn't he the one running the interrogation ?

— He went to the restrooms, David, _why_ , you want to come and join him ?

Ziva grinned as she heard Tony chuckling and immediately begun walking away from the two men with desperation, heading in the bullpen's direction. She didn't seem to be very thrilled either with that unsolved situation.

— So what do we do, boss ? Tony asked and heavily breathed out. No identification of this couple from any witnesses, no further proofs…are we closing the case already ?

— We do not give up when there is DNA involved with a dead body, Dinozzo, Gibbs furrowed both eyebrows, strangely staring at his agent. What is wrong with you, it's only been a few days !

— You're right, Tony immediately apologized, I'm sorry. I just...I just had something on my mind, but...yes, of course we keep working on that case. So, he smiled, what do we do ?

— Nothing, Tony. We free him. That's all.  
— — — — — — — —

…Tim felt his hands tense up around the sink, pain softly taking control again of his ten slim bones, small drops of sweat sliding along his forehead. He pressed and closed both his eyelids before facing the mirror again, staring at himself.

' _Look at you, Tim, you look no better than Tony's favorite stupid characters, thinking about deep feelings while uselessly watching your reflection…_ ' he ironically thought and smiled.

But he couldn't look away. Couldn't look away from that awful version of himself he couldn't identify his old self to anymore. He splashed some water on his face and briefly saw that vision of his recent past, feeling the liquid in a very different way, knowing what it represented…now even that simple action was associated to a bad memory. _Awful_ memory.  
But that was it, he needed to refresh his skin, even if he didn't really know why, maybe in order to clean it from all that suffering and sadness, maybe in order to breath more, maybe…he held back the tears and splashed some more water, especially around his cheeks. They were turning red.

' _What am I doing with my life ?_ ' he kept silently wondering.

This face. This body…that wasn't him anymore, that didn't belong to him anymore.  
Yes, he was just someone or something similar to a ghost, sadly wearing human clothes, pretending to socialize with other humans.

— Yo, MacGyver ! Not that bad, that interrogation ! someone suddenly said, brusquely opening the door.

Tim slightly jumped and hoped for Tony not to have seen his reaction, still lost in his thoughts and not willing to share them. There were some moments in life where he didn't want to talk…or maybe he didn't want anymore.

— Wow, Tony…he faked a casual talk, MacGyver, _really ?_ Now you're even writing my name differently, does it mean you've reached the next level for the dumbest jokes ever ?

— I'm doing my best to be spontaneous, Timmy, Tony smiled and placed his arm around Tim's neck and shoulders, taking a look at himself in that same mirror in front, touching his hair. I don't want to create routine between the two of us, you understand ?

— How nice…

— Anyway, he kept smiling, Gibbs is looking for us, he wants us to continue our researches and find out who can be responsible for our Marine's death.

— Gregson is free ? Tim asked and instantly removed the opposite arm.

— Yep !

— Alright. Let's go, then.

And on these words, Tim hurried outside the restrooms, quickly cleaning his forehead with the back on his hand. Tony slightly opened his mouth, not knowing what to say but wishing he maybe could have said something…well, restrooms were definitely _not_ the best place on earth to start a conversation, but still…it still would have been the opportunity to try.  
He sighed and stared at the door his friend and teammate had just so brusquely reopened and closed, sighing...he just wanted to know how McGee felt. But again, he had preferred starting with a joke, and the joke had lasted way too long to lead to anything relevant.


	20. Links of Love

( _One week later…_ )

Gibbs noticed the opening of both silver doors, the elevator freeing a very excited Tony.

— _Oh, boss, you're never gonna believe that !_

Jethro furrowed both his eyebrows and waited for the news to come out of his agent's mouth, but a pair of platforms suddenly ran in his direction as well, their owner definitely ready to approach faster.

— _Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs !_

Jethro heavily sighed and watched the duet reach his personal desk, that situation already getting on his nerves. He took off his glasses and stared at them.

— What is going on ! he turned impatient.

Tony and Abby stared at each other for a handful of seconds before suddenly starting speaking all at once.

— Okay, Gibbs, you'll never believe this, Abby started, remember what…

— _Wait, boss_ , why not listening what _I'm_ saying ? So, you know, we spent our time looking for…

— Oh _shut up_ , Tony ! Gibbs, Abby continued, that's the problem, we only cared about the relationship between…

— But come on, how stupid we've been, we should have cared more about our dead…

— But then McGee had the idea that we could ta...

— _HEY !_ Gibbs shouted. Can anyone tell me _clearly_ what is it about, or are you two planning on acting like children for the rest of the day ?

Tony and Abby immediately stopped speaking, blushing. They could see Gibbs was losing patience, but he still looked curious enough and in need of answers.

— Now what ? You forgot how to speak ?

— _Mrs Louisa Grovers, Gibbs, forty-two years old, married and mother of two children._

Jethro immediately stood up and approached the screen Ziva had surprisingly walked to, remote control in hands. She could have sworn Tony would have killed her right now if there hadn't been any witnesses, but she finally only winked at him and kept talking, not minding anymore the two sad facial expressions on the other side.

 _—_ He took real care of not being part of any picture, at least not any public one.

— This guy is an expert, Tony proudly smiled.

— Yeah…right, Ziva sighed, revealing additional documents and screenshots. So like I was saying, something new came up.

— _Wait_ , Gibbs stopped her, our dead Marine was having two affaires with two married women ?

— I know, right ? Told you this guy was an ex…

— _Oh, shut up, Tony !_ Ziva and Abby said at once, both raising a palm in his direction.

The agent instantly closed his mouth and decided not adding a word, simply listening to the end of the explanation he already knew about.

— What picture, Ziva ? Gibbs asked.

— This one.

Jethro heard the click of the remote control and stared at the awful double picture and its line in the middle.  
He could see that woman's face on the left and that Marine's one on the right, crosses hiding their eyes and mouths…

« _Unfaithful people deserve to die_ ».

— McGee got the idea to take a look at the Dark Web. We couldn't find any other clue so he thought it might be worth it giving it a try.

Gibbs kept deeply staring at the screen for some additional thirty seconds before finally starting giving his orders, fast and neutral like a robot, as so often.

— We have three possibilities, even without direct proofs : the Admiral Gregson. Not a killer but could still have been the one sharing that picture and hired someone to do the job. Mrs Louisa Grovers' husband, if he ever discovered his wife cheated on him. Or his sons.

— Kids making justice for their father ? Now it sounds even more interesting…Tony smiled, thinking again about an umpteenth movie scenario.

— _Just a minute, if I may, Jethro_ , a voice suddenly ordered him from afar, although the sound of it was pretty gentle to hear.

Gibbs watched Ducky approach the screen and waited to know some more about his opinion.

— I have been trying to work on Mrs Gregson's psychological profile when you asked me to do so, the ME continued, and I cannot not mention the 'manipulation' factor, according to the number of relationships she had. Oh, of course, cheating on your husband is not enough to deserve to be murdered from anyone, nor to decide to kill anyone, but the ability of hiding so many affaires would be quite an exhausting challenge for any person doing so, and I'm only talking here for the half of them.

— Sex addiction ? Ziva asked.

— Maybe, too, Ducky nodded. Now I do not intend to sound too romantic either, but maybe Mrs Gregson thought that she was…well, _the one and only_. She perfectly could have shared this online, if not killed him when she discovered he was seeing Mrs Grovers as well. But I know, we do not have any proofs, and that is the biggest problem. Who found this ? he finally asked, pointing a finger at the screen.

— McGee.

— Interesting. And...where is he, again ?

Everyone suddenly silently restarted thinking about him, now staring at each other. Besides the absence of Jimmy today, it was quite a happy reunion in here…so why was he not sharing with them that small victory ? Case had been driving them crazy for days, and now they had found something new, _thanks to him_. Tony noticed Gibbs' silent questioning glance and immediately begun speaking again.

— I'm sure he's fine…he grimaced. You know, he's probably doing one of his geeky stuff, somewhere…  
— — — — — — — —

...Tim kept his hands around the toilet bowl, pale and shaking, watching the big amount of water taking away what he had just thrown up again, wishing he could just leave that place he was so pathetically stuck to.  
He heavily breathed in and out for another minute and hoped for the nausea to disappear, but he ended up throwing up almost instantly again.

— _McGee ?_

Tim slightly jumped as he heard the voice and immediately tried standing up, but his stomach was too empty now to help him doing so. Really, was it becoming a habit ? Tony looking for him in the toilets, ready for jokes ?

— _Damn it_ , he lowly cursed himself and wondered if he should say something and show up...before noticing the black shoes near the door.

— Probie, come on, I know it's you, only a scout can enjoy spending his free time on the floor.

Tim desperately rolled his eyes and flushed, trying standing up, slowlier this time.

— Are we _that_ close, already ? Tony smiled before the door completely opened and revealed a very pale McGee. _Wow…!_ What happened to you, McGhost ? Did you put yourself in the wash machine ?

— _Ah-Ah, very funny, Tony…_

Tim clumsily walked a few steps in the sink's direction but suddenly felt himself weaker than he had been on the floor, the world now spinning around him, turning blurrier…he guessed that was the consequence for throwing up his lunch in the toilets.

— I've got you, McSick ! Tony said and helped him, an arm around his waist.

— Oh, why don't you let me in peace with these stupid names, Tony...

— _Yeah, yeah..._ complain as much as you want, Timmy, but now we're gonna go and see Ducky, and if I'm not wrong, according to your wonderful face, he'll probably call it a day, for you.


	21. Second confrontation

Ducky noticed the two agents coming and wondered why they were walking in his direction…someone seemed to be quite in a bad shape, and there was no doubt for that someone to be Timothy. He guessed Anthony had found him somewhere, eventually.

— _Hey Duck !_ Tony exclaimed, automatic doors opening in front of him. I brought you an injured man for medical exams !

Tim rolled his eyes and slowly tried to get rid of Tony's grip, but he could still feel that empty stomach of his ordering him to not move. He also had acid burning his throat every time he wanted to speak, and that was definitely _not_ helping.

— I am not 'injured', Ducky, Tim complained, I just threw up, okay ? Now I know it's not the most beautiful thing to talk about, but that's not a good reason enough to be brought here either.

— Oh come on, McGee, I know you love to be in my arms…

— _Oh dear…_

Tim briefly smiled at the thought of Ducky and him saying the words at the same time, but he had to admit that he was already bored at the idea of Tony cheering up and coming back in the bullpen, using another stupid name supposed to define him before telling everyone _how funny_ it was to know that he had thrown up…  
Ducky seemed to have read his mind and simply invited him to sit down.

— Alright, Anthony, now do you mind letting me alone for a little while with Timothy, or would you like to stay and replace Mr Palmer, in case our dear friend's stomach would want to eject anything new ?

— I think I'm good, I'll leave you both to it, Tony forced a smiled and immediately left the work area, briefly waving a hand and mumbling a « bye », finally heading to the elevator.

Tim softly chuckled and tried to hide how uncomfortable he still felt, that sitting position not being the best to endure nausea… He really hated to feel sick. If you were in coma, it was easy, you could simply stay unconscious until you'd simply wake up, but being at work while being as sick as a dog was definitely not the best way to deal with the day.

— Thank you Ducky, he nodded, you basically saved my life.

— Well, I know Anthony can sometimes be a little insistent with fun, why it is good to find new ideas to keep him away.

— _A little ?_

— Well, the ME smiled, I am a bit old, so maybe I am a bit wrong, too. _So_ , Timothy, he continued, what was wrong with your lunch ? It seems like your body obviously didn't really enjoy the digestion.

— Uh, I don't know, actually. But I'm sure it's nothing, It'll pass eventually.

— I am sure it will. Anything expired ? he continued.

— Don't think so.

— Anything not properly cooked, then ? Maybe if the meat was not quite…

— No, Ducky, I haven't even taken meat today. I don't know, maybe I'm fighting something, I already felt a bit nauseous this morning, I guess I just wasn't ready for food…

The ME approached Tim a bit closer and deeply looked into his eyes, checking his skin color…obviously he wasn't supposed to have pink cheeks at that very moment, but still, that face seemed way too pale for a simple indigestion.  
Tim could see it coming, and hell no, he didn't want to talk. He was way too tired for that _and_ he didn't want to talk.

— Timothy…Ducky started asking, are you still taking all your medicines ? I mean, _regularly._

Tim felt his skin turn a bit warmer, like a child suspecting punishment, but he tried not to show anything. After all, he was a grown-up man, right ? He didn't have to justify to anyone his current behavior.

 _— Timothy ?_ the voice called him again. Have the new painkillers I advised you to take been giving you side effects ?

Tim took a deep breath and tried not to throw up again, momentarily lost in his thoughts, so the ME gently wrapped a hand around his, but the agent immediately took it away from the surprising grip.

— I don't know yet, Ducky, Tim tried to hide his reaction by continuing the dialogue. Actually, I don't take them very regularly, no. I mean, I still take my other medicines, of course, but you know, I don't think I need to stuff myself with these things so often.

— Alright, alright…and is that you who doesn't need them or is it you body, Timothy ? Ducky asked, gazing into his eyes. _Listen_ , I do agree on the fact that outrageous quantities of pills are not always good and certainly not for the best, but Timothy, in this case, your body needs to heal…and it needs support for that.

— Oh, _please_ , Ducky, it's been weeks, now, I didn't break every single part of my anatomy, I can perfectly handle…

— But the problem is, Timothy, Ducky suddenly interrupted him, that you are playing with fire ! Of course, your body can 'survive', as you say, but by letting it heal without lowering the pain, you are delaying the whole process. You could have so much more energy by now, but by fighting the pain only by yourself, you are making additional efforts you shouldn't have to deal with.

Tim sighed and looked away from the old man, knowing that he was technically right…but still, he could do whatever he wanted, right, there was no need of feeling nothing but quite drowsy night and day... He was tired of everyone's opinion, he could perfectly heal the way he had decided.

— Look at me, Timothy, Ducky nicely ordered, I know you might think that way, but I suspect that it is not the real reason for that.

— It's been weeks, Tim sighed, still looking pale and exhausted.

— Timothy, there is a reason why we have doctors in this world, he smiled. You cannot accept a treatment after such trauma and then decide to not take half of it, and so on… Your body can be your worst enemy if you do not treat it well, and if you decide to play with it like you do with your painkillers, then it'll make you endure the hard result of your actions.

— _Great_ , Tim swallowed some new tepid saliva, hoping he wouldn't throw up again.

— This is probably not what you want to hear, according to the way you seem to have been treating yourself recently, young lad, but you do need to take care of yourself. Whatever the excuses you can find for not being regular with your treatment, believe me, they are not the good ones.

Tim ended listening to the ME's speech and prepared himself to stand up from his seat, at least 'psychologically', feeling a tear trying to escape. He didn't want to keep hearing that conversation, not now. And more than anything, he wanted to get back to work, well protected behind his computer's screen, far away from Gibbs' curiosity and Tony's jokes about him vomiting if he didn't show up very soon…

— Hmm, Ducky, Tim said after clearing his throat, do you think you could give me something like a glass of water before I come back upstairs again ? They probably are waiting for me, and Gibbs might want to ask me some questions about my recent researches.

— Well, Ducky started to move in his desk's direction, with an empty stomach like yours, I'd better recommend first some mandatory…

— _Ducky_ , Tim instantly retorted and suddenly moved his head way much faster than he should have done, I really need to go…

The ME turned back and noticed the man feeling dizzy, the young agent now reflexively pushing a palm against his forehead.  
He took a few steps forward and decided to slowly help him standing up, seriously worried. Tim welcomed the old arm with great, silent sympathy, knowing he was feeling too weak to clearly want to go back to work, but still relieved that he'd finally be able to leave that place where he was obviously creating bad attention around him. _He was strong enough, he could perfectly do it…couldn't he ?_  
Anyway, he had no choice. It was completely out of the question to risk looking like a poor patient in need of sleep when he could simply take that elevator and keep looking for the bad guy with the others.  
He swallowed again deep saliva and hoped for the best, feeling acid ready to insanely rejoin his throat.

— For God Sake, Timothy, Ducky managed to help him a bit more standing up, tightening his grip around his waist, what are you trying to prove, you really need to rest !

— I am gonna be alright, I promise, now I just need to get back to work if I don't want Gibbs to kill me. Now can I ask you for a glass of water, _please_ , he pronounced again, trying holding back another acid rise, his throat getting dryer than ever.

— Oh, believe me, my boy, you need way more than a simple glass of water, Ducky's voice seemed a bit madder than before, and you really need to follow your treatment the way you've…

The ME tightened his grip even more as he noticed the agent's cheeks ready to inflate, and started helping him bending down when the automatic doors suddenly opened. Jethro watched the very strange duet and immediately kicked the small trash near the entrance as he heard Ducky pronounce his name, Tim finally falling on his knees just in time to throw up everything he had left inside what was opened in front of him. The young agent was still conscious but too shaky to really notice anything, his body now completely empty from any food, weaker than ever. The old ME put two gentle palms on top of Tim's shoulder, Gibbs ready to help lifting McGee on one of the silver tables, although his voice was seriouser than ever.  
Ducky didn't know if Tim would hear a single word of what he'd be saying, but he said it anyway, looking at Gibbs.

— What is wrong with him, Jethro ? he asked, a palm on the sick agent's forehead.

— What do you mean, Duck ?

— I want you to tell me why. _Why_ is Timothy so eager to prove you he is alright ?


	22. Wake up and eat

Tim opened his eyes and took a look around, wondering where he could be…computer, mass spectrometer… _Wait, why mass spectrometer ?_ He blinked a few times and noticed the shoes walking in his direction. He probably was in Abby's lab…but then, what was Palmer doing in front of him ? He scratched his head a bit, trying to clear his ideas, and prepared himself to speak again.

— _Hello, Tim_ , the man smiled and started the conversation.

— Oh, hi, Jimmy…

— Some water and snacks ? Jimmy smiled back, raising both food and drink to the agent.

— Okay for the water…for now, McGee grabbed the small bottle, trying to sit on the futon.

— So, how do you feel ? What would be the best word to describe yourself ? _Sorry_ , Palmer chuckled, I like to encourage the dialogue with some funny word games, sometimes.

— _Uh…_ Tim tried making the effort : 'empty' ?

Jimmy chuckled again and finally sat down next to him, staring at Abby's work area. The weather was clear today and the light was perfectly crossing the window's glass, brightening the space they were in. The place was quite peaceful, in fact, when there wasn't any loud music in it. But no music in it meant it was definitely missing something.

— Why do I feel like I'm completely hungover ?

Jimmy smiled and put a palm on Tim's shoulder, showing support.

— No need of alcohol to feel like something is completely destroyed inside of you. I guess your body is too dehydrated to notice the difference between these two possibilities.

— Yeah, you're probably right, Tim nodded and took a few sips of his water. _So_ , what time is it, something like 17h ? I guess the day will have passed faster that usual, let's say that's still a good thing to take in consideration...

— Uh, well, not exactly, Tim, Palmer sounded amused.

Tim blinked a few times more and took a serious look at Jimmy, wondering what could be so funny, and why he would say such things anyway. Weather was still too bright to announce an imminent evening, so there couldn't be a lot of options.

— What time is it, Jimmy ? Tim slowly asked, worried.

— Hmm, let me take a look at it…he said, staring at his watch. _9:30 sharp._

— _IN THE MORNING ?!_ Tim's heartbeats suddenly increased to the highest level possible. Oh please tell me it is still night time, Jimmy...

— Well, he smiled again, I know I have been working with Dr Mallard for quite a long period, but that's still the American time, Tim. It's 9:30 in the morning, well, 9:31 now... Are you sure you do not want any snack before leaving ? he suddenly added, watching Tim ready to run, walking away from Abby's futon and farting Bert.

— I'm only sure of one thing, Jimmy, I do not want to be fired !

Tim could feel some pain in some of his muscles as he quickly begun to gesticulate, lower one than weeks ago but still existing one, constantly waiting for him to execute any bad movements that might make him feel worst. That was all, he thought while desperately reaching the elevator, no childish behavior anymore, if he still had a chance to keep his job at the end of the new day, _yes_ , he would promise anyone to follow any kind of treatment if they asked him to. Yes, if necessary, he'd personally take each painkiller after each painkiller, but that was out of the question for him to be stared at again the way he had been. No more showtime, no more risk of showing any kind of sadness, pain, or hard feelings…he needed to be strong, and really keep all the attention away from him, this time. Jimmy waved a hand in his direction before standing up in turn, but he didn't see him doing so, too busy with his own worries and questioning thoughts…  
— — — — — — — —

— Boss, I'm sorry…! he almost yelled from afar. W-Why didn't anyone wake me up ?

Tim suddenly stopped in the middle of the bullpen and noticed the absence of all his co-workers.  
 _Where the hell was everyone ?  
_ He stared at each empty desk and let the awful sensation occupy his whole body and mind, not controlling anything anymore...yes, he had no real idea why, but for a minute or two, he felt completely lonely.  
So that was it ? he silently asked himself. To have a busy life, to be a _real_ member of NCIS ? A few weeks only and still, he already felt like he was no part of the game anymore, or at least not really part of it. He sighed and waited to receive any kind of answer to his unspoken questions, guessing that was what was happening to the weakest…

— _Tim, hey…!_ a voice suddenly called him, Abby finally revealing herself, opening both her arms in order to hug him. How was the night with Bert, nice ? Oh, I told Gibbs I could have welcomed you home, you know, in my guest bed, but Ducky and him were pretty serious about you, they told me it was here, or the hospital.

— You...you have another coffin, Abby ? Tim strangely questioned her, wondering why he was asking _this_ instead of anything else.

— Of course, Timmy ! Well…she revealed a flirtatious smile, you've only seen the bigger one a long time ago, but… _anyway_ , I'm here to take you out for breakfast !

— B-Breakfast…? Tim kept asking, not believing his ears. _Abby_ , I already slept for hours, you really think I'll spend more time having some coffee and croissants on a terrace rather than working ?

— _Wow_ , I didn't know you were so fancy, McGee ! Why not something more like coffee and scrambled eggs, with…

She noticed the agent's grimace as she pronounced the scrambled egg's part and thought back of what she had just said.

— Okay, pastries seem good, _whatever they are_ , she tried a smile, but we do have time, Tim ! Everyone is out anyway, talking to the Grovers' family, and Ducky took the morning off. Not enough dead bodies to work on, she said as she raised both arms in the air, reacting with one of her natural cute faces.


	23. Double coffee

_A bang at the door before silence.  
Someone slowly walking to it with a questioning look.  
_ _Additional bangs. Footsteps coming.  
_ _The woman opened the door and faced the three agents._

— Mrs Grovers, NCIS, Agents Gibbs, Dinozzo and David, are your husband and sons here ?

— Uh…my sons are coming back in the evening, and my husband should be here tomorrow. But why ?

— Can we come in ? Ziva neutrally asked.

— _I…don't know, I…_

— We have a warrant, Mrs Grovers, that was just a formality.

Tony quickly entered the place after her, followed by Gibbs, rolling his eyes…that was so Ziva-style. _How rude._  
And still, she was actually being nice at the very moment.

— Wh…what is going on ? the woman kept asking, worried.

— Mrs Grovers, we found a suspicious online content that might be related to a Marine's murder, and the ip address led us to one of your computers. We have orders to bring it back to NCIS and interrogate your husband and family.

— Wait, she shook her head, I do not understand, this _has_ to be a mistake, it can't be…

Jethro could see the worries on her face as the other agents started looking for the wanted computer in the others rooms, but he didn't show any kind of reaction, as usual…so he only replaced his cap and finally grabbed a glassy photograph between fingers, raising it to the woman, who stared at it in shock.

— I guess you knew this man.

Gibbs silently observed her and wondered if she could be involved anyhow, he she could know someone already knew…but she definitely seemed very surprised, they were probably right thinking she believed no one had a single idea about this previous affaire of hers.  
— — — — — — — —

— _Thank you_ , Tim reluctantly said to the waitress, glad to fill his tired body with unusual caffeine, but still frustrated as hell to be having breakfast instead of working. _Wait_ , he suddenly said after drinking a sip of his hot drink, gazing into Abby's eyes. I don't understand.

— What ? she questioned him, black mittens kindly wrapped around her large smoking cup.

— You said they all went to the Grovers' house.

— _Yes, and ?_

— Well, how did you guys find where the picture was coming from if I wasn't here ?

Abby smiled and took a bite of a toast she had just ordered.

— Oh, Timmy, I love when you put your ego on such a pedestal, it makes you look so…virile.

— _Ah-ah…_ No, really, Abby, I found the picture on the Dark Web and barely had started looking for the...well, when I felt...you know, sick.

— Oh come on, I was here, you know, I can manage some things on my own ! _And we asked for someone else to help us as well…_ her voice suddenly lowered, Abby's hiding the unexpected revelation by diving her lips in the warm liquid of her drink.

— Oh, great…Tim pressed his back against his seat, feeling desperate. So you guys just worked on finding the source of the post and even asked for some additional help while I was quietly dreaming on your futon…

— Did you dream ? the woman smiled. Tell me about it !

— _Abby !_

— Hey, _relax_ , Tim ! Do you think I would have brought you here if I hadn't been told to do so ? You know how much I love friendly breakfasts, but if Gibbs had asked me to wake you up at sunrise, I would have done it !

— Wait, _Gibbs_ ordered you to let me sleep and bring me out for breakfast ? Oh God...

He thought of this unbelievable situation and felt like he would maybe be sick again. The famous Jethro Gibbs knowing one of his NCIS agents was sleeping in the building and still offering him a nice night of rest and a cup of coffee ? Something _definitely_ had to be going wrong in here.

— Yes, I already told you, the woman continued, I got asked not to wake you up until this morning and to be sure you would have eaten something !

— Well, maybe you should have done it anyway, Tim turned nervouser than before, according to the time I had already spent sleeping… Man, I'll never go to bed again, he stressed, I slept for an entire year...

— _Oh shut up, McGee !_ Abby brusquely pressed a fist against the table, making the other people around jump, I received orders to make you eat properly this morning, so you'll not gonna leave until you've eaten every single crumbs of it, is that clear ? And don't you dare rushing ! she added, pointing a threatening finger at him as she noticed he was now drinking faster.

She relaxed her phalanges and took another bite of her toast before stopping, taking a sudden curious look at the space, seeing a few people watching her, speechless.

— Crazy…! she exclaimed and sighed, raising her coffee to her lips again, not minding anyone anymore. It's like nowadays, no one can be relaxed enough for a minute and enjoy a nice breakfast ! _People…_ she finally ironically chuckled, her facial expression immediately changing, Tim not daring retorting anything else.  
— — — — — — — —

...Mrs Grovers heard the door open as she talked to Gibbs and wondered who could be home so early. The double pair of footsteps finally gave her an answer to her silent question.

— _Mum ?_ a voice asked. _We're home !  
_

— _Mr Trausur was sick so I left…_

— _And Laura canceled our date, her father is in town, so…_

— _…here we are !_ they said all at once.

Tony and Ziva went out of the last room and approached the woman and Gibbs in the kitchen, laptop in hands. They could hear the voices still talking from afar with an undefinable complicity, the duet taking off their shoes and dropping their bags in the entrance, finally walking in their direction.

— Who are these people, Tony smilingly whispered to Ziva, waiting to meet them, the Weasley brothers ?

— Oh, hi boys, Mrs Grovers nervously spoke, greeting her first arriving son. Agent Gibbs, here are Peter…and Nicholas.

— _What a bad mother…_ they said at the same time. Don't you know who we are, after eighteen years ?

— _Oh God_ , Tony froze.

The trio of agents finally discovered the duet of brothers, tall and brown-haired… _twins._  
Tony didn't say a thing but simply rubbed his face, already tired with the case.

— Mrs Grovers, Peter, Nicholas…

— _Nick._

— Alright, he corrected the name : 'Nick'. We will have to ask you to follow us to NCIS. We'll contact your husband as well, Mrs Grovers. Oh my God, _how exciting_ , he finally told Ziva when the mother and sons started walking away from them, slowly heading to the exit with Gibbs.

— What are you gonna talk to me about…she sighed.

— _The Other Me…_ a boy is cloning himself and lets his double do things for him. Oh man, I wish I could have a twin brother…!

— Hopefully there is someone up there who did _not_ allow that, Ziva instantly reacted, pointing a finger at the sky. Two Tonys, _really_? One is already _way too much !_ she ironically chuckled before joining the others.


	24. Peter & Nicholas Grovers

Tim waited for both silver doors to open in front of him, worried. He had just left Abby after that very awkward breakfast and was now wondering if everyone was already back in the bullpen. _11h already._  
That was so unreal, and he couldn't get rid of that awful feeling in his gut, telling him Gibbs would certainly kill him for being that late, like…almost a day late ? But that was a stupid thing to think, right, especially when it was Gibbs _himself_ who had allowed this.  
' _Oh God_ ' he thought again. ' _He's gonna kill me_.'

( _Ding…_ )

Gibbs was the very first one to be seen in the bullpen, although he was not sitting behind his desk, but already walking away from it.

— Boss, h-hey…

— Good morning, McGee, he said without turning back. Did you enjoy your breakfast ?

— Uh…Tim hesitated near the elevator, is it a tricky question, or…

Gibbs simply turned his head and took a serious look at him, as always, dropping a file onto the nearest desk, annoyed.

— I just asked you if you enjoyed your breakfast, McGee, he neutrally said.

— _Uh…_ yeah. It was…it was delicious, boss, _thanks_ , Tim's answer almost sounded like a question, the young man still unsure if he should have been honest and said so or simply decided to close his mouth forever. Where...where are we going, boss ? he added.

— Interrogation room, McGee, Jethro snapped his fingers, inviting the agent to follow him. We have Tony and Ziva talking to the Grovers' sons, we'll take the wife.

— The wife ? What, you really think she could have something to do with the case ?

— No, but we'll wait for the husband to come and join us. We called him this morning, someone if gonna pick him up at the airport, he'll be here soon.

Tim nodded as he kept trying to catch Gibbs, arriving behind him. After all, who could really tell if she knew anything or if she was actually in danger ? Yes, now that would be the opportunity to ask questions and prove what he could do. _Yes_ , he clearly wanted to stop speaking about anything else that could be related to food or sleep.

— Oh, and you and me, McGee, Jethro added, we're gonna have to…

— Interrogation room. _Got it_ , boss, Tim suddenly interrupted him, now walking past him.  
— — — — — — — —

...Tony straightened up a few papers and put them down onto the silver table, trying not to look too serious.  
' _Twins…_ ' he silently thought. ' _I'm tired of twins_ '.

— _So_ , Ziva started the conversation. Are the two of you studying in DC?

— _Yes, Ma'am_ , they answered at the very same time.

— Peter ?

— First year of med school for me…

—…computer science and engineering for me !

— This guy will be the best geek of Washington…

— And this one the best doc !

Tony briefly chuckled before continuing speaking, thinking about McGee and his probable love to know that there'd soon be others like him.

— Alright, alright, boys, he smiled and finally turned serious again. Let's focus, can we ? _So…_ he hesitantly started, did any of you noticed any changes recently at home ?

Both brothers reflexively stared at each other as they heard the question, surprised.

— What do you mean, by 'at home' ? Peter asked and softly chuckled. Like 'did we bring good results from our last exams', or...

— We simply want to know if you noticed anything _new_ at home, Ziva repeated, slightly insisting on the word.

— Uh…

— Drop it, bro, they're talking about our parents, one of the boys suddenly said.

— Sorry…? Tony stopped.

He could see the now darker expression on Nicholas' face, and both Ziva and him could tell they'd soon get an answer they were expecting to hear.

— What are you talking about, Nick ? Ziva questioned him, pretending not to understand.

— Oh come on, we're not stupid, okay, and way old enough to know what has been going on in our parents' life. We haven't been to jail yet if I do remember well, so for what else would you be asking us that question, uh ?

— _Meaning ?_ Ziva continued.

— Nick told me a few months ago that he knew my mother was cheating on my father, Peter admitted and sighed.

— And I guess that must have upset you, Tony neutrally continued.

— _Uh…yeah !_ She's here, giving us advices for our girlfriends, telling us about great human values and how to keep them happy, but she spends her free time fuck…

— _Nick !_

Nicholas saw the unspoken sadness in his brother's eyes as he heard him pronounce his name, and instantly tried to calm down, Tony and Ziva simply sighing all at once, taking a look at the duet… It was strange suddenly seeing them react that way, now that they knew they were all here speaking about the same thing…these two young faces had brusquely turned more concerned and hurt now that the big subject had finally been put on the table, and that was probably the worst part of this interrogation.

— _I've seen her once with that guy when I was home,_ Nick continued from afar _, I had classes later that morning so I was still sleeping. I went down and saw them kissing…but they didn't see me._

— _What did you do ?_

— _Nothing. I just left the house and vanished._

…Ducky made a few steps in that other room, behind the glass, thoughtful…  
He had kept listening to the few things they had just been saying, and still couldn't get rid of that strange feeling of knowing that two young boys were now sitting in that very unpleasant room. He knew Gibbs had put them on the list of potential murderers, but according to the fact that he had nothing but indirect proofs against them, he could have certainly make them talk in a brighter place than this one, like with Mrs Gregson. ' _Gibbs' technics…_ ' he mumbled. How hard to understand, sometimes.

— Anything interesting, Dr Mallard ? Jimmy suddenly entered and asked.

— _Ah, Mr Palmer…_ well, I arrived just in time to listen to what these two young lads had to say. Mother needed me for a couple of hours and I thought I might be able to offer her some help, especially because I do not have anyone dead at the very moment to take a real, urgent care of, he smiled.

— Still no new dead people in here either, from what I can see, Jimmy smiled back, taking a look at the space on the other side.

— Never until Gibbs has entered a room, Ducky smiled again. But as you say, Mr Palmer, as you say…no other friend for us, yet.

— Are you alright, Dr Mallard ?

— Oh, I do feel like I am more working on psychological profiles these days than on actual inert bodies. My tools are cleaner than ever, the ME chuckled.

— _So_ , Jimmy exhaled and pressed both his palms against his hips, talking about profiles, what can you say about them ?

— Well, I seriously consider needing more informations about our duet before deciding sharing a seriouser opinion about it, but what I can see now is one boy over here, he pointed a finger at Nick, _very resentful._


	25. The decision

The several bodies didn't actually move a lot in the bullpen, but the different pairs of arms still gesticulated quite often, the numerous NCIS agents keeping attacking each others with unanswered questions…yes, it was clearly easy for anyone around to understand they were all facing a lot of troubles and had quite a hard time trying to take a decision that wasn't really up to them anymore.  
Tim silently thought about the previous talk and about how he felt he had managed running a good interrogation. No spontaneous, unwanted reaction, this time. _Good, right ?_ At least Gibbs hadn't given any bad comments about it… _yet._

— … _come on, Gibbs, freshly over eighteen, resentful, like Ducky said, and with computing skills ? It has to be our man !_ the man's voice brought Tim to reality again.

— And what can I do about it, Tony ? Jethro heavily sighed. I do not have any proofs against him !

Tim took a quick look a his boss. Yeah, Gibbs was definitely not the good guy to talk. He needed answers but hated more than anything to be looking for them with useless, never ending speeches…he was a field agent. He was a Marine.

— _Wait_ , you seem to be forgetting his father, who was the one supposed to have posted the picture of his wife and that dead Marine online ! Ziva added. I have to be dreaming…isn't he supposed to be our suspect number one ? Why are we even discussing that point ?

— But how can you know if one of his sons didn't access his laptop's session, uh ? Tony asked, raising both arms in the air. It's the 21st century, David, everyone can get a password easily.

— You are wearing blenders, Tony !

— ' _Blinders',_ Mrs Carla Hall !

— Oh whatever, Tony ! So what about Mrs Gregson, then ? You talked about Ducky's opinion, right ? So what about what he said concerning the fact that she might have been jealous because she thought she was the only one to matter ? Are you gonna say that women are not capable to kill ?

— Okay, guys, let's have a break for a minute, Tony sighed. _God…!_ We've already spent a lot of time on several cases, that's never been a surprise, but something like this one ? _Really_ , it seemed _so_ easy from the beginning, and now I feel like it's like a huge can of worms.

 _Thwack !_

— You're not paid to be an undecided agent, Dinozzo, and _I_ 'm the one telling you all when you can take a break ! Gibbs got mad from behind, slapping him behind the head. So try taking a damn decision or go back to work !

— Of course, boss, Tony jumped. Thank you, boss.

Ziva sticked her tongue out as she walked next to Tony and finally sat down behind her desk, trying to focus again on her screen. They needed a miracle. Otherwise it would be Mr Grovers who'd be responsible for everything, and this whether or not it was true to say so.  
Gibbs finally approached Tim's desk and spoke again, tired.

— McGee, he seriously asked, can we _really_ be sure that this picture and threat are coming from this laptop ?

— Well…I'd rather say so, boss, Tim said and raised his head.

— _But ?_

— What, Tony questioned, there is a 'but' ?

Gibbs heavily exhaled, briefly staring at him before listening to Tim. Tony's facial expression instantly turned neutral and he then waited in turn to get some more informations.

— Well, remember the Wilfried case ?

— What are you talking about again, probie ? the question escaped his mouth. _Sorry._

— _The Wilfried case, Tony !_ Four years ago, we arrested a man who had posted terrorist threats against the United States. The ip address led us to a computer, but it was a complete trick…

— …someone had managed to hack the system and pretend it was coming from this computer, _yeah_ , I remember now, Ziva stood up and walked to McGee's desk, pointing a pen in his direction.

— _It doesn't ring a bell…_

— Tony, I had just arrived at NCIS, it was one of my first cases !

— Oh, yeah…he chuckled, that's probably why I don't remember any of this ! I was too busy teaching you English…

— You miserable…

— _Hey !_

Gibbs took an additional sip of his large cup of coffee and tried to think about all of this, momentarily getting rid of all the noises around, including all these childish confrontations between his agents he was already so bored of…they were all turning crazy in here... Well, maybe Mr Grovers _was_ guilty. But then who could tell he had been the killer ? They had proofs for his computer, not about any murder, so who could tell he hadn't maybe hired someone in order to not dirty his own hands ? That was still a good reason enough to directly send this man to jail, but definitely not the truth he wanted to obtain.

— Okay, any chance for Louis Gregson to know about Louisa Grovers ? Tony desperately sighed and rubbed his face, desperate. _Gosh, these names..._

— Not that we know of, Ziva said.

— Alright, he sighed again. _Good._ Let's try, at least, to eliminate a few accused ones, because I'm getting tired of it…

— _It doesn't work like that, Tony…!_

Gibbs furrowed both his eyebrows and quickly approached him, ready, this time, for a new head slap.

— Tired, but not enough to stop, boss ! _I…_ Tony revealed a large, forced smile. I really want that case to be solved, of course !

— Alright, Gibbs said. Then let's leave it to his lawyers for now, we know the picture was posted from his computer, so whether or not he hired someone or did the job himself, he'll have to pay the price for something.

— Seems a little unfair, boss, I mean, in case he…

— Then there is nothing I can do about it, McGee ! Gibbs suddenly turned madder and stared at the agent. I can fight for the truth, but if I do not have anything else to work with, I have to let it go, at least for now ! I have as much reasons to think that he's guilty as I have reasons to think he might be innocent.

— _Got it, boss_ , Tim finally reacted neutrally and soon restarted working behind his computer, hiding.

— And I want all your reports on my desk ! Jethro ordered the group.

Gibbs briefly turned back and looked at Tim from afar, but didn't add a thing, now simply keeping walking to the elevator. He heard someone asking him where he was going and if he might be needing some help, some offer he refused instantly, and finally headed to Abby's lab, hoping for some additional informations in exchange of a drink...

— Louis Gregson, Louisa Grovers, Nick, Peter…why not sending them all an invitation and starting a game of Clue together, Tony sighed again with desperation, sadly playing with his pen.

— Oh yeah, and to tell them what ? Ziva asked him, Tim reflexively raising his head in his direction, interested as well by the line to come.

Tony immediately opened his mouth, willing to say something…but nothing finally came out. He just heavily breathed out for the umpteenth time and hunched his back, lost in his thoughts.

— _I don't know…_ he strangely said. Actually, I think I'm running out of quotes…


	26. I'm not a kid !

— Hey, Abby, Tim said as he entered the loud lab.

— Tim…! she exclaimed, opening two large arms, you fell in love with this morning butter buns and now you feel like ordering some new ?

— Very funny, Abbs, Tim grinned, although it is true that they were definitely delicious ! No, actually, I wanted to know if you already had written your report for Gibbs. You know, I'm doing mine and writing about my progress into the Dark Web until I discovered that picture of our dead Marine and Mrs Grovers, but as you finally continued my researches with someone else, I just wanted to check a thing or two.

— Here it is, McGee ! Fresh and clean ! Please feel free to take a look at it…she smiled, raising the paper in his direction. _But_ I do have one condition !

— _Which is…_ Tim sighed.

Abby suddenly revealed a very serious facial expression, well, as 'serious' as a serious puppy expression could be, according to the agent's personal opinion…

— No jealousy, Timmy ! _I'm serious !_ You know you're still my favorite NCIS geek, alright ?

— _I promise, Abby…._

Tim gently smiled but bitterly thought back of the fact that he had actually been taking a nice breakfast when everyone was working up there, and especially the fact that he had been vomiting and then sleeping like an ogre in that very same lab, while another expert had been helping Abby and NCIS to find out about Mr Grovers' ip address. _Oh, man…_ they wouldn't need him anymore, that was for sure.

— _…Stop torturing yourself, McGee !_

— What…? Abby took him out of his reverie.

— _Sorry._ Bad choice of word, she immediately said and pressed both palms against her lips.

— It's okay, Tim mumbled, not very happy of being treated again as if he couldn't handle a few syllables. What would I be, uh…torturing myself with ?

— I don't know ! the woman's arms begun gesticulating a lot, the way they were usually used to, but I can see the little wheels moving inside your brain, and I don't like that !

— Sorry, Abbs, I was just thinking about…

— _Ah !_ You see ?

— I mean, I was just thinking about taking a look at your report. Can I ? I guess you've already sent a copy to Gibbs ?

Abby nodded and finally let her friend take the document from her grip, politely standing still where she was until he completely left the room. She only nicely waved at him and let him vanish from the loud lab, still not moving for no reason.

— Mrs Sciuto, there are moments in life when you should learn to shut up your big mouth, she told herself, imitating Bert's voice, the stuff-animal staring at her from the furniture. _I know, right ?_ she continued and answered her own person, pointing a finger at her now silent interlocutor. It's like I cannot control myself, sometimes, _how boring !_ Well, at least I will always love you, Abby, you can be sure about that, the fake male voice restarted, waiting for another reaction. _Really ?_ she finally added in Bert's direction. I love you too, my big farting friend. Forever and ever.

She finally took it from where it was standing and pressed it against her with emotion, lovingly sighing, the funny sound resonating in the end between her arms, as expected.  
— — — — — — — —

…Tim didn't really pay attention to what or who could be in front of him, eyes only focused on the paper Abby had just given to him, checking a thing here and there…  
' _Damn it…_ ' he thought, knowing there was nothing wrong with the paper itself, only with the remembrance he had now again, the memory of him doing _nothing_ for almost a day, if he included the whole night time spent, almost drooling on the futon, and the one of Gibbs sending him to eat and pretending there was nothing wrong with it… A head slap from Gibbs, yeah, that was what he wanted. Or anything of the kind, but at least _something_ , or someone really telling him how _wrong_ …and _unprofessional_ it had been for him to take such time off inside that damn NCIS building. How did he dare being unconscious all that time ? He briefly raised his head and stopped, wondering…  
Maybe that _had_ been the punishment ! Yes, maybe treating him like a prince had been a way to humiliate him because he hadn't been doing enough, a vicious way to tell him he had to stop whining, and…doing things, like, 'vomiting everywhere'….  
' _Okay, now you're getting very, very stupid, Tim_ ' he thought, already tired of himself and his ideas. He discreetly groaned and headed to the elevator, eyes focused again on the document, reading some new words...

— _…the doors, Mc…_ McGee !

 _—_ Uh ? he raised a head and strangely stared at Gibbs, walking in his direction. Oh, _sorry_ , boss...!

He brusquely put a hand between both silver rectangles and waited for Jethro to join him inside, himself not feeling really better now that they were both sharing the same small space…who could know when Master Gibbs was about to press that evil button ?  
The doors finally closed and Tim felt the cage starting to be lifted, and… _jackpot._  
Tim briefly, but deeply stared at the button once the elevator completely stopped in the middle of nowhere, a bit anxious, now.

— Something you want to tell me about, McGee ? Gibbs neutrally asked and looked at him, reflexively raising his shoulders and chin.

— _I…_ sorry, boss, but I…uh, I panicked.

— You 'panicked', McGee ? Gibbs' blue eyes gazed into Tim's ones, before his hand started moving to the button.

Tim didn't stop the slight, shaky movement of his own body, but immediately revealed a palm next to Gibbs.

— Not yet, boss, I am…I am _not_ finished !

Jethro didn't say a thing and only kept staring at the young agent, waiting to know more.

— _Why ?_ Tim suddenly asked, with more confidence, this time.

— Why 'what', McGee ?

— Why are you treating me like a kid, boss !

— Why that, McGee, is that the way you're thinking ?

— _Well_ , do you really give me the choice, boss ? Letting me sleep like a baby in a Federal Agency building, letting me enjoy a nice breakfast ? What does it say about me, uh ? How does it make me look !

— I wanted you to know what it's like, Tim, how it is supposed to be !

— What are you talking about, boss, how 'what' was supposed to be !

— _To rest_ , McGee ! To take some real time off when your brain and body absolutely need it !

The younger man brusquely pressed the button again, the duet immediately sensing the elevator moving again…

— Well, _thank you_ , boss, but I'm perfectly great ! Now if you have some additional days off or...cookies to share with the team, please give them to Tony !

It didn't take long for the silver cage to reach the bullpen, and Tim didn't wait either for an answer to leave the small place in a hurry, Gibbs still not saying a thing but now staring at his agent from afar, worried.

— ...What's wrong, probie ? Tony raised his head and watched him sit behind his computer, already typing.

— _Nothing_ , Tony, Tim sighed with exasperation, typing even faster than before, I just had a conversation with Gibbs !

— Yeah, he smiled, you mean 'he' just had a convers… _uh…_

Tony couldn't end his sentence. Ziva slightly shook her head in the elevator's direction, inviting the man to discreetly take a look as well…Gibbs was just getting out of the elevator, heading to Director Vance's office, and he looked really upset.

— _Oh God_ , he instantly, lowly reacted.

Yeah, little Timmy had _definitely_ been the one pressing the button.


	27. Consequences of hidden feelings

« _McGregor pressed the button of the elevator, knowing his responsibility. The bomb was inside, and he wouldn't let it make more damage to the building. 'Press it again' he thought. 'And run'.  
_ _No, he couldn't. He had to face the danger, to let his mark in this world by helping the others._ »

Tim stood up and walked to the kitchen, filling a new cup of coffee, taking his painkiller.  
He swallowed it and bitterly reacted. Drug and caffeine, what a disgusting taste.  
He took one more sip and went back to his desk, staring at his typewriter.

« ... _McGregor finally pressed the button of the elevator again, looking at the time, a new idea in mind. Maybe it wasn't too late.  
_ _— You don't have to sacrifice yourself, McGregor, at least not in here, he told himself. Not now.  
_ _So he unexpectedly let the silver cage lead him to the bottom of the building and hoped for the best._ »  
— — — — — — — —

( _Ding…_ )

— Hey, probie, how was your Sunday ? Tony's voice immediately asked him when he left the elevator, ready to reach his desk.

All reports had been sent by everyone the other day, decision should be coming soon. Well, if it wasn't taken, already.

— It was okay, Tony, thanks, he finally said. Do we have the news ?

— We do, McGee, Ziva instantly reacted, approaching as well.

— _And ?_ he sighed.

— Guilty, Tony answered. At least for now. Until the discovery of further proofs.

— _Great_ , Tim exhaled and dropped both arms. So no one listened to what I said when I talked about the Wilfried case, uh ?

— Of course we did, but you heard Gibbs, right ? No proofs against to work with at the moment. But maybe later, okay ? You know nothing is never over until it's really over.

— And he still _can_ be guilty, remember, guys ? Ziva added.

Tim started feeling his hands shaking a bit as he walked to the woman's desk, exasperated.

— So why doesn't it apply to the Admiral Gregson, then ? He had DNA under his nails, for God's sake, the two men fought after he realized his woman was cheating on him ! _So what_ , is it because he is an Admiral, or…I mean, are we really gonna let him free because he is part of the Navy ?

— We're not the ones making the laws, Tim…

— But we do fight for justice, Tony !

The two other agents noticed the tense arms of Tim but didn't comment, or at least didn't get the time doing so, because someone else was already walking up there, calmly asking for Tim to follow him in his office. _Director Vance._ What could he be wanting ?  
Tim politely nodded and begun climbing the couple of silver stairs, almost glad of the interruption. Yes, maybe they could talk about it face to face, well, if Vance didn't need him for anything else before.

— Can I help you with something ? he asked as he entered the office.

— I only wanted to take some news, Agent McGee, Director Vance neutrally answered, hands behind his back. Please sit down.

— I'm fine, Director, Tim gently said, pausing a minute. I only feel this situation didn't end very well, he finally added, sighing.

— Really, Agent McGee ?

— Yes, Director. I wonder if things could have turned a bit… _differently_ , according the the lack of proofs we had from the case.

Leon Vance remained silent for a minute as well and discreetly took a look a Tim, who was still standing up. He looked physically okay, well, according to what he could see, and he had definitely seen worst emotional reactions from other agents after big traumas, but Gibbs _did_ have expressed some concerns about McGee the other day, and Gibbs, as stubborn as he could usually be, wasn't ofter very wrong about people either.

— Something bothering you about the case, Agent McGee, or is there anything else you would like to tell me about ?

— I only wish we would have had more elements to decide who is guilty and who isn't, Tim slightly sadly said, although he tried speaking as neutrally as possible.

Vance discreetly breathed in and out and replaced his arms behind his back...  
Maybe it was time to do his job, after all, maybe it was time to really ask.

— Are we still talking about this case, Agent McGee ? _Listen_ , Agent McGee...he repeated the name and continued almost right away, taking a few steps forward, Agent Gibbs told me about the possibility for you to take some additional time off, if you might feel like it. He does suspect, as well as I start to, as well, that you might be too involved with the recent case.

— _I'm fine_ , Director, but I do appreciate your concerns.

— Then maybe you should listen to them for a little while, don't you think, Agent McGee ?

The dialogue wasn't cold on both sides, but still extremely neutral, and the only reason for a loud talk to be avoided was certainly the obligation of showing politeness... Director Vance finally approached Tim and seriously gazed into his eyes.

— Agent McGee, he asked again, are you really sure that you aren't preoccupied by anything else than this current, now closed case ?

— Only this case, Tim briefly pronounced after a short pause, giving what seemed to be his last answer.

— Alright, Agent McGee. Then, if there is nothing else...you are dismissed.

Tim nodded and tried leaving the office as quickly as possible, finally going down the stairs, heading to the bullpen...  
No one in there. _Good._ No one to stop him. He walked to his desk and stopped for a minute, trying to process that strange feeling which was trying to come out. ' _Nothing wrong, there's nothing wrong_ ' he thought, trying to calm down and convince himself...  
He nervously rubbed his face and thought back of that previous conversation… _nothing wrong, right ?_ _Nothing wrong..._  
But then why, _why_ was he suddenly feeling so bad…!  
He let the feeling grow inside of him and threw his badge onto his desk, rubbing his face a second time, feeling his cheeks turning warmer…before finally heading to the elevator, lost and nervous.

 _Feeling lonely._


	28. Papers flying all around the place

— Can you tell me again why you want me to stick my nose in McGee's computer ?

— Because he isn't here, Abby, and I don't have the time to wait for him to answer his damn phone ! Gibbs groaned.

— Maybe this time he's enjoying a nice lunch at the… _hey, relax !_ I'm just kidding, Gibbs !

He simply stared at the woman and waited for her to enter Tim's personal online space, already looking for the file in particular. They hadn't been out for long, and the day had just started, so what was he doing, taking another break ? He was so exasperated that he was almost ready to trust Abby's hypothesis.

— So which one are you willing to see, Gibbs ? she asked. And don't you dare telling McGee I logged in, got it ?

— The Wilfried case, Jethro answer and begun wearing his glasses, now focusing on the screen.

— Doesn't it belong to the FBI, now ? It was a two-agency thing, right ?

— I know, Gibbs groaned again, but he must have contacted them and asked for reports, because he showed one to Tony the other day, after remembering a potential similarity between the two cases.

— Ah yeah, the 'I-am-not-the-one-who-posted-that-picture' thing, right ?

Gibbs only briefly sighed and Abby took it as a confirmation.

— Well, I'm glad then that you're taking a closer look at it, Gibbs, she smiled. McGee will certainly be glad, too…but you're not gonna tell him, uh, she chuckled, because you do not want to let him think he might be right... _I mean_ because you are incredibly modest ! she automatically corrected herself, nervous. Okay…she continued, so no file about any Wilfried case, for now. Maybe here, or…she kept scanning the bright screen, blinking.

— And what about this one ? Gibbs pointed a finger at another small blue box.

— The ' _copies_ ' one ?

Jethro nodded and impatiently waited for her to open it, hoping he could only make it with the simple help of his eyes. The small blue rectangular shape revealed its reflection in the middle of his glasses as Abby's double-click finally freed the inside informations.

— _Wow_ , she exclaimed, I didn't remember that this Wilfried case had been _so_ long to work on.

Gibbs silently stared at the numerous documents, all named with numbers and short key-words…he hadn't counted them all for now, but there was certainly more than fifty. _Maybe a hundred._ He sighed and reflexively pushed Abby on the side, sitting at the desk. There was something in his gut telling him that it didn't smell good.

— It wasn't, he finally said. McGee quickly found out who had hacked our man's system.

— Really ? So…what are all these files for, then ?

— I don't know, he neutrally said, opening a first one...

« _Report of Agent Linda Kales, for the case number 243546X13, murder of Marine Joseph Granders…_ »

Then another one...  
« _Burnt computer, copy of the photograph of exhibit number 2, terrorist attack on June, 3rd…_ »

He deeply exhaled and clicked on the twentieth one of the list as well, still reading…

« _…no further proofs concerning the case in Washington DC, involving Dr Vaugher and his wife, May 22nd…_ »

— What the hell is going on ! he suddenly mostly asked himself, getting rid of his glasses on Tim's desk, barely looking at Abby.

She didn't try asking a single question, knowing it was definitely _not_ the good moment for it, so she only took a second look at the several, now open documents, wondering what could be the link between them all… _that was it.  
_ She didn't remember all these few cases perfectly, but she knew she had definitely been working on them, and this for the simple reason that _McGee_ had been working on them, too. She raised a worried head in Gibbs' direction, but he was already heading to Vance's office, stubborn and silent…  
— — — — — — — —

—…Agent Gibbs ? the voice called him. I just had Director Vance on the phone. He will not be able to get here for now, but you do have full access to the security cameras, if you are still willing to take a look at them.

— I only need the last couple of hours, he sighed, taking the rectangle from her palms, leaving.

Gibbs pressed both his hands around the tablet, fastly walking away, already tired. He _hated_ these gadgets….  
When he finally reached Abby's surprisingly quiet lab, the woman immediately took the item from his hands, quickly typing a few things on her keypad, suddenly revealing that same video Gibbs was desperately looking for on the larger screen of her own work area.  
Jethro took a few steps forward and seriously faced it, showing his back to Abby, telling her where to look…he suddenly pointed a finger at the video's extract and told her to press 'play'.  
They both could see it : McGee going down the stairs, getting nervous…then throwing his badge and probably his gun, although they couldn't really see him do so, before heading to the elevator...Tony brusquely interrupted the moment by entering the lab, in turn.

— _Hey, boss, there is someone on the phone who wants to talk to you about…_

— Tell them to call back later, Dinozzo, he instantly reacted, already walking away. And keep working !

— _Uh…_

Tony raised a hesitant finger in the air, willing to say something…but he faced Abby and watched her shaking head, that facial expression of hers obviously inviting him to obey Gibbs' orders until he could know more.

— Okay.  
— — — — — — — —

Tim jumped as he heard the bang at the door. No chance for him to answer. If it was anyone from NCIS, they would have to come back later. The noise finally stopped after a second bang and Tim then focused again on what he was doing, glad to notice the footsteps leaving outside…

( _Ten minutes later…_ )

Tim was finishing a new cup of coffee when he suddenly heard it, that slight sound, that sort of click inside his lock…he prepared himself to stand up and grabbed the dark case next to him. A part of the floor squeaked as he approached the door, and he deeply prayed for no one to have heard him.

— _Long time, no see…_ a voice discreetly said from behind.

— _Are you sure he is inside ?_ another man asked.

— _Certain. I've seen him coming to his apartment._

An accent. Tim's heartbeats immediately increased and seemed to stop at the same time, so he tightened his grip around his gun and raised both arms in front of the entrance.  
 _A last click._ Something coming to the end of the lock… ' _Breathe_ ' he silently ordered himself. ' _Breathe, Tim_.'  
But there was no chance for him to do so. The door suddenly opened, the action accompanied with a gun raised in front of McGee's head, the agent now reflexively doing the same, facing his intruder…

— What the hell are you doing, McGee ! Gibbs suddenly shouted at Tim, who barely lowered his arms at the discovery.

— _I… I'm...sorry, boss, I…_ he tried to speak, freezing.

Tim painfully swallowed and tried not to think about the unpleasant sensation of warmth along his forehead, Gibbs sighing and briefly staring at the man next to him.

— You can go back to work, Javier, I think I'm gonna be okay from now, he said, lowering his gun, inviting the security guard to do the same, the calm tone of his voice now frightening Tim to the bone.

Tim ended up doing so as well and finally watched the man leave, almost disappointed that he would be left alone…but Jethro didn't care about any of his potential reactions and took a few steps forward, entering his agent's place, seriously looking at him.

— _I…_ I promise, boss, this isn't as bad as it seems…

— _Oh yeah_ , McGee ? Is it normal for you to be pointing a gun at me instead of being at work ?

— Well, Director Vance told me I should be taking some time off, and…oh _wait_ , boss, don't go in there, it's very…messy…

But Gibbs had already entered the main space, now worriedly staring at the dozens of papers lying on the floor… _memos, pens, notes, documents…_ it looked like a mess. A damn, _crazy_ mess.

— What is it ? Gibbs asked, turning madder, picking up a document here and there. You've just joined the CIA and forgot to tell me ?

— _It's…nothing, boss, I…_

— You ' _what_ ', McGee ? Jethro lost patience. Printed all the files of NCIS behind our backs ?

— No, _I…_ I just needed to make some researches, boss…

Jethro brusquely stood up and walked to McGee, so close that he could actually hear him breathing.

— You asked Director Vance to give me some time off, Tim reflexively repeated, as if to justify himself again.

— _Enough_ , McGee ! Gibbs brusquely ordered and stepped back, as if to wake him up, now pointing a threatening finger at him and at the mess. Now let's talk, Tim, and not inside a damn elevator, this time ! he almost screamed, finally throwing away the few papers he had previously taken. _AND RIGHT NOW !_


	29. A man is leaving

Jethro finally stood still, staring at Tim, mostly angry at himself, although he was definitely not ready to admit it. What was happening in here, _why_ Tim hadn't shown any sign ? Of course, the 'printing hysteria' had been quite recent, but still…only someone with a seriously troubled mind could have been reworking that hard on so many closed cases.  
But then _why_ ? If Tim must have been troubled with someone, it would have been with Karon, right ? Not a bunch of living and dead people he would have been working with, or on…so why them all ?  
He sighed and watched the young man clumsily gathering his papers… _so many of them._

— Am I gonna be fired, boss ? a voice suddenly lowly asked.

— What ?

— Am I gonna be fired ? Tim repeated, a bit louder, this time.

— _Fired ?_ Gibbs smiled before turning serious again. First you're gonna take a week break, McGee, and stay out of these cases, _then_ we'll see if you're fired or not !

— Alright, boss.

A ' _whatever_ ' would have been fine, too, but no doubt Gibbs would have killed him right now if he had dared saying so.

— _Am I clear, McGee ?_ Jethro questioned him as he raised two hands in his direction, waiting for the gun and documents.

Tim painfully swallowed, but ended up giving them all to Gibbs, who immediately put the weapon in his coat. He then started grabbing his phone, dialing a number.

— What are you doing, McGee ? We haven't started speaking yet.

— I know. I only want to call Director Vance. To tell him I am officially, uh…listening to his advice, y-you know…the week off.

 _So weak_ …and still so _polite_ and _professional_. That call would certainly hurt his ego more than ever and he knew it, especially after having pointed a gun at Gibbs and at this other man supposed to be in charge of his security…  
' _Why can't you be cold as stone, like Ziva, or the damn Master of stupid jokes like Tony, all perfectly able to hide everything so well… Why can't I be like Gibbs'_ he finally thought, too.

— No need to call, McGee, Vance already knows.

— What ? How…? Tim asked, hanging up.

— He already knows, Gibbs explained, your week off has been confirmed.

— _But when !_ Tim brusquely stopped being hesitant, now deeply thinking. That's because of the elevator, isn't it ? he coldly added as he heard nothing in return, but a silent answer. Because I got mad after that… _damn_ breakfast thing.

— Calm down, McGee, it was already settled, okay ? Vance and I had already talked about it when you decided to come back to desk duty. He was ready to give you that additional week anytime if it was happening to be necessary. And who could blame him ? he discreetly attacked.

— Oh, _great_ , Tim desperately sighed and dropped his arms. So everybody is secretly checking on me but _I_ am the one working behind everyone's back.

— Bad comparison, McGee ! Jethro warned him.

— Oh, you know what I mean, boss ! So that's it ? Everyone wants to see if I'm not gonna crack up ! Well, I'm sorry that I vomit in Ducky's work area, I'm sorry I didn't do everything _perfectly_ , nor the way it was supposed to be, I…

— _Hey_ , snap out of it ! Gibbs' free hand suddenly pressed Tim's wrist.

Tim took a deep breath and focused on controlling his feelings. No, he wouldn't cry in front of him. Not in front of anyone. Now all he wanted was to be left alone, maybe for the good reasons, maybe for stupid reasons, but whatever…he needed to have his own space for himself.

— _McGee_.

— No one is strong like you, boss, Tom lowly interrupted him, some noticeable sadness in his voice.

— What are you saying, McGee ? Gibbs asked, furrowing both eyebrows.

Tim raised a decided head and gazed into his eyes.

— I want you to leave, he calmly said, although it was definitely a cold voice Jethro was now hearing.

Gibbs took a few steps forward, feeling the exhaustion coming up.

— So that's it, Tim, that's really what you want to do ? Kick me out of your place ? I don't think you remember the gun you just dared pointing at me !

— And whose fault is that, boss ? the young agent suddenly felt ready to explode, tired of the example. _Who_ asked for my key and opened my damn door without my consent ! What should I be doing, uh, hosting visitors who are forcing my door with a welcome cocktail ? You have your own methods, I know about that, he continued and pointed an index at the walls, sensing Gibbs was about to say something, but this is _my_ place ! This is small, I know it, but this is _mine_ !

Tim rubbed his face and turned back for a second, thinking about his next words.

— I'm sorry I disappointed you all, _I really am_ , he honestly admitted, the tone of his voice turning calmer than before. I shouldn't have left like this, and I definitely should have told you what I was doing, but I will _not_ apologize for asking you to leave.

— 'Rule number six', McGee.

— I don't care, boss...Tim lowly reacted, facing Gibbs' surprised, but serious glance.

The agent sighed and took a quick look at the copies in Jethro's hands. He wanted them back.

— I see you in a week, boss, he finally said, raising, in turn, an open palm in his direction.

Gibbs hesitated an instant before giving him back the key he had previously asked to use, downstairs, still one question in mind...it was so strange only asking one when he would have preferred and mostly expected a big fight and bigger explanation about all of this...but everything was turning so strange these days, anyway...

— _Hey, McGee_ , he said, Tim raising a head, barely curious. Why did you refuse to see me ?

But Tim remained silent for a handful of seconds, before answering...although it seemed to last an eternity.

— 'Rule number 39', boss, he answered in the end.

— What do you mean, Tim ?

The young agent dived both hands in his pockets, now feeling the key reaching the bottom of one of them. They had it all planed...checking on him, all knowing he wouldn't be capable to survive, to live again like anyone else. He hadn't even really talked about it.  
 _Probie._ He'd always be 'Probie'.

— Why 'rule number 39', McGee ? Gibbs insisted, although he was standing, this time, by the door, about to leave.

— Because we always have to pay the price for what we've done.

Gibbs listened and heavily exhaled, but didn't say a word, only briefly taking a look a McGee, one last time...  
 _And he left._


	30. Fifty bucks

Tim walked to his desk and opened the drawer next to it, lifting up a few astronomy books, grabbing a grey cardboard folder under them. ' _Okay_ ' he thought. ' _Let's keep working_.'  
He opened it and freed numerous printed documents, the same Gibbs had previously been taking from his place.  
He reread the first lines of the previous Yellown case, wondering if someone could have been making a mistake during the investigation…if _he_ might not have made a mistake. He had been working on it as well. _Too many mistakes_ , people dying for the bad reasons…three years ago, already, since that case. Who could say the real bad guys were in prison ? Who could tell they had focused enough to be sure of the final result ?  
He kept thinking that way but didn't find the answers to his numerous questions, although he kept working like this for two days without stopping.  
— — — — — — — —

( _Two days later…_ )

— _Sorry !_ Tony warned everyone as he tried walking in the bullpen, raising his cup of coffee in the air in order to protect it. _Gibbs, you're gonna love that !_

— Spit the words, Dinozzo, he reflexively reacted from his spot, or I promise you I'm not gonna love anything.

— Okay, okay, Tony continued, almost hitting someone on his way. Oh, hi, Martha...how are you doing ? he smiled.

 _Thwack !_

— What am I gonna love, Dinozzo ! Gibbs insisted.

Tony discreetly groaned, silently expressing his pain, cleaning the drops of hot coffee which had just fallen along his hand. He finally put the cup on his desk and faced Jethro.

— Our Mr Grovers lied in order to protect his son ! Nicholas Grovers _was_ the one logging in while his daddy was going to the bank.

— And we didn't notice that ?

— Well, there's a bank down the road, boss, and it was a fifteen-minute thing only. We checked the bank account of everyone in the family but didn't really pay attention to the joint account ! I mean, we took a look at it, but, you know…if Mr Grovers had hired someone in order to kill our Marine, we seriously doubted that he would have used the joint account to move money.

— Never doubt, Dinozzo !

— Never doubt, Tony repeated. _Got it._

 _—_ How do we know it is Nicholas and not his brother Peter ? They're not quite different, _physically speaking_ , Jethro ironically commented.

 _—_ The whole University can confirm. Maths exam.

— How much, Dinozzo ? Gibbs then kept talking and neutrally reacted, although it was clear he was interested.

— Fifty, boss. And he didn't take them _from_ the account, he just put fifty damn dollars _on_ it. The date was the same, the one when the picture had been posted, so I went to the bank and asked for the exact deposit time. The woman perfectly confirmed seeing our man at the cashier. Then I only needed to know who was in class and when, or at least who was inside or outside the house…and that was it.

— Not a proof of murder, still.

— I know, boss, but not a innocent man in prison either.

Gibbs stood still for a second, neutrally looking at Tony. He guessed it was time for a compliment. That was some good job, he had to admit it, especially after they thought they had checked everything and would be closing the case until the discovery of any further proofs... He tapped his hand on Tony's shoulder and quickly nodded before heading to the stairs, as if to say 'thank you'.

— Good job, Dinozzo.

— Well, thank you, boss, Tony smiled, but, you know, it's not entirely the result of my work.

Gibbs briefly stopped near the first silver stairs, neutrally looking, again, at his agent.

— Okay, he said before climbing them up, I'll thank Ziva, too, when she comes back.

— Uh...yeah, okay, boss, Tony tried forcing a smile, although Gibbs wasn't stupid.

He suddenly stopped again and heavily sighed, waiting to know if he would willingly get the informations from his agent or if he would have to use force to get them by himself. Tony painfully swallowed as he watched his boss walking back in his direction, wondering if he'd ever come home after this talk…  
He fearfully noticed the finger pointed in his direction, knowing it was as threatening as it would have been with a gun.

— If I ever hear the name of McGee in that conversation, Dinozzo, you are gonna be in very serious trouble !

— _Wait_ , boss, Tony's body turned tense, can you at least listen to what I'm gonna say ?

— 'Rule number ten', Tony ! Gibbs groaned.

— Boss, Tim isn't personally involved in that case ! Come on, we were all simply…

— He _is_ involved, Tony ! Somehow this case has an importance for him. I'm not Ducky, but I know there is something !

— Whatever, boss, the agent dared saying, trying to explain. _Really_ , he helped us finding who was really guilty, so why should it matter ? It wouldn't be the first time someone is crossing the line. Be mad at him later if you feel like it, but do not attack him for solving a case !

 _Wrong remarks. Apparently.  
_ Gibbs immediately headed to another direction, the elevator's one, this time, decided.

— It was my fault, boss, okay ? Tony started saying from afar, Gibbs already about to be out of sight. He called me and asked me to double-check the accounts again, but I didn't give him any document, _I_ was the one listening to his advice, he just told me to follow the lead after I confirmed his suspicion, and… _And here he comes_ , he finally added with a dramatic tone of voice, completely falling in his seat, _the best man of all, the dead man._

He imitated a cross' sign and sighed…what a day.  
 _— — — — — — — —_

 _(McGee's apartment...)_

 _— Open the door, McGee, or I swear I won't need any key to access your place !_ the voice treatened from the building's corridor.

Tim's exhausted eyes looked away from the paper he had between his hands, now focusing on the new noise. Maybe he'd better open... _what a day._ He walked in the entrance's direction and slowly turned the key inside the lock, quickly facing Gibbs' cold and angry facial expression.

— You're here to thank me, boss ? he asked. I guess not...he finally said, getting no answer in return.

He heavily breathed in and out, showing the space Jethro already knew.

— Please come in...he pronounced with a new, forced energy, although clearly reluctantly.


	31. Third confrontation

— What is going on, McGee ? Gibbs asked, although there was no violence in his voice… _yet_.

— I'm glad you ask, Tim almost normally continued, because there are a few things we should definitely be reworking on.

Gibbs remained speechless for a minute or two, staring at the numerous papers around the place. So what was that… _copies of copies ?_ He sighed and kept walking, taking a look at everything...one thing was for sure : Tim had turned crazy.

— _So ?_ Gibbs finally said. Are you gonna explain to me what has been going on in your head, or do I have to figure it out, myself ?

— I can manage an explanation.

— I bet you can, Jethro sighed, not looking away, now, from the dark circles under Tim's eyes.

— Coffee ?

Gibbs almost jumped as he heard the short question. Now Tim was offering him coffee ? Things were _definitely_ going wrong.

— Ever tried sleeping instead, uh, McGee ? You know, that's what days-off are usually for.

— Yeah, Tim chuckled. _Right._

Normal Jethro would have certainly reacted to less than that, actually, he would have certainly shut McGee's mouth from the beginning, but he didn't know why he hadn't really done anything yet. Why wasn't he simply confronting him right now ?

— _Here it is_ , Tim's voice and new movement in his direction interrupted his thoughts. Certainly not as good as yours, but definitely a good brand. One of my friends brought me some after a trip a few months ago, and I never thought I would use it for more than one cup, but _hey_ , _look_ , he smiled, almost empty. _I'm glad I could finally use this present, it is…_

Tim's voice suddenly lowered in Jethro's ears as he noticed his agent ready to take the unused cup for himself. Not about to be his coffee-style, for sure, he instinctively thought, but still better to drink it, rather than increasing even more McGee's speaking rhythm. His eyes widened as the hot liquid penetrated his throat. Cuban coffee. No doubt Tim hadn't been sleeping for days, 'cause it was definitely strong, _even for him._

— So I guess Tony gave you the info concerning the bank account ?

 _A nod._

— Are you gonna arrest Nicholas ? The webcam on the laptop when he logged in, right, we have the proof…

— I figured, McGee, I seriously doubted you and Tony had considered a man 'guilty' for no reason… You hacked it, didn't you ? Who did you help from your 'secondary office' ?

— Because it is off doesn't mean… _listen, boss_ , I know he had confessed, but…

— I don't care about your explanations, McGee ! Now what I want to know is _this_ : how is it possible for my agent, who is supposed to be off, to know more things than _I_ do about a case !

— I do not want an innocent in prison, boss. We _had_ to be sure...

— An innocent, or the wrong person, McGee ?

 _Touché._

Gibbs hadn't really thought about asking this question, if he had to be honest, but it had came up quite naturally to his mind in the end, and more than anything, it had seemed to matter to McGee at some point, because the agent had briefly shown a small, although still existent, hesitation.  
Maybe none of them were completely acknowledging the whole situation yet, but something was _definitely_ processing. Still an improvement.

— Isn't it supposed to mean the same ? Tim wondered, taking a new sip.

— I don't know, Gibbs neutrally answered. You tell me.

— When are you interrogating him, boss ?

— A day you won't be here, McGee, Jethro instantly groaned.

— But I helped finding who was really guilty, you can't push me out !

— Well, you'll wait if you want to keep your _damn_ job, McGee !

— I want to go, boss, and I _deserve_ it ! Tim's voice turned a bit louder than before, the agent briefly looking at the numerous papers around him.

Gibbs approached a bit closer.

— These cases are over, Tim, and this current one will have to be closed without you. You're not God, McGee, and I do not know why they suddenly matter so much to you, but you cannot work on them all again, all by yourself ! It would take years, and we have other victims who need us, if you still remember.

— So let me come, at least, to the interrogation, boss ! I won't work on anything else !

— _Oh really_ , McGee, Gibbs pointed a finger at the new copies, and I'm supposed to believe that ? Why, McGee ? he immediately continued, worriedly staring at his agent. Why is this so important to you that you can't rest ? You want me and the whole NCIS Agency to thank you ? Well, I'll do it, then. _We_ 'll do it !

— I do not want anyone to be killed because we made a mistake, boss, that's all ! I still want to be sure we have the right person, and…

Gibbs' angry feelings suddenly lowered, and this, almost completely, as he finally understood what was going on.  
Of course... That ' _twin case_ '. McGee had made the parallel with what had happened now weeks ago.  
 _Karon._

— Wait, 'killed', McGee ? he finally interrupted him, calmer.

Tim's cheeks immediately turned warmer and Jethro noticed that one of his hand was slightly shaking. And that had nothing to do with the coffee.

— I meant 'arrested', boss, Tim quickly corrected.

Gibbs sighed and dived his own palm inside his coat's pocket, suddenly revealing an unexpected badge, walking to McGee's desk…he pushed a few papers away, some of them instantly falling from the furniture, ending up in the small trash can next to it, and put the dark and shiny object in the middle.

— Now you have to remember one thing, Tim. What are your priorities, as an NCIS agent ? You cannot save everyone...he added, and sometimes you have to save yourself.

— It is not that simple, boss.

— I know, Gibbs neutrally commented.

Tim didn't add a word and only kept watching what really belonged to him. NCIS. His identity. _His life.  
_ A gun suddenly followed, coming from nowhere, safely hidden inside its black case.

— What are you doing, boss ? Tim asked, hesitantly.

Gibbs' hand moved away from the weapon, the man's blue eyes now staring at the young agent.

— Next time you open that door with a gun when I'm here, McGee, I kill you.

— _Got it, boss_ , he painfully swallowed.

— Now you'd better lie down on that bed until tomorrow morning, he continued, pointing a finger at the other room, because you look like crap.

— I'm not tired…

Gibbs chuckled and quickly dialed a number.

— _It's me !_ the cheerful voice immediately answered.

— Abby, Jethro spoke, watching Tim, who was now turning paler, you can come up, McGee is ready for nap time.

— _On it, Gibbs !_

— It's not even late…! Tim tried to retort from behind.

— Be brave, McGee, Gibbs hung up and smiled before leaving, just a few days to go.  
— — — — — — — —

( _The next morning…_ )

— Hey, Probie ! How was the McGee-sitting !

— _Very funny, Tony…now, I called you because I need a favor._

— A favor ? Tony smiled, looking at his watch. Wow, that early...

— _I need to know the time of Nicholas' interrogation. I know you told me he had tried to run away, but you finally got him, right ?_

— June 17th, 2025 !

— _Tony…!_

— Ah, come on, Probie, you know I can't tell you ! Gibbs already almost killed me yesterday, and if you _do_ remember well, it was quite the same for you, Mr Bad boy !

— _Last call, Tony. I only need the interrogation time, and I promise I'll stop asking. Otherwise..._

— Oh yeah ? Or what, McTrouble ?

— _Otherwise I burn all you DVDs' collection ?_

( _Ding…_ )

Tony noticed Gibbs coming out of the elevator, coffee between hands.

— Okay, Timmy, very funny, but I'm quite busy, alright ? Where are you, now ?

— _In front of your door._

— What ? What are you... _oh, you wouldn't…!_

 _Thwack !_

Tony jumped as he suddenly faced Gibbs, visibly preoccupied.

— Stop calling anytime of the day and start working, Dinozzo ! MTAC, now !

Gibbs immediately headed in the silver stairs' direction, not waiting for Tony to join him.

— _You're coming, Dinozzo ?_ he groaned from afar.

— Yes, boss !

— _I'm entering, Tony_ , Tim spoke to him at the same time.

— Okay, okay, McGeek, _14:15 !_ the man whispered. And be sure I'll kill you when I see you, he nervously threatened the agent on the phone.

— _See you there, then._


	32. Secret observation

Tim entered the other room next to the interrogation one, watching Gibbs and Ziva talk to that young man on the other side… _bad decisions_. No need to be old to be taking them.

— I thought Gibbs would have required you for the talk, Tim said.

— He guessed Nicholas would feel at ease, knowing there was a woman as well in the room. Three guys might have seemed pressuring.

— Well, he doesn't know Ziva.

— He doesn't know Ziva, Tony confirmed.

— Right.

— _So…_ Tony whispered. I am still planning on killing you later, you know.

— I know.

— So you'd better run away from here before the conversation out there is over, otherwise Master Gibbs is gonna kick your ass, including mine.

— I will.

The few words were immediately followed with silence. Deep, deep silence.  
Then, a hand movement.

— Oh, stop it, McGee, Tony suddenly said.

— What did I say…?

— Nothing, McGee, just... I don't know, when will you realize that all this situation is freaky insane ?

— What do you mean ?

— Oh you know what I mean, Tony instantly answered, rubbing his face. _Listen_ , I do not agree with Gibbs and Vance giving you a free week behind your back, alright ? I know no one has to be personally involved in anything, but let's face it, sometimes it's impossible. But you have to admit you have been, and still _are_ acting pretty crazy these days anyway, and no need of a mandatory week break to notice it.

Tim sighed and took a look through the large glass, although his attention was focused on his teammate.

— Thank you, Tony.

— For what ?

— For not having asked me for details about what happened.

— De nada, McGee. I know too well how it can be…you know, to go through something, and have no one to really understand.

— I'm not saying you wouldn't under…

— I wouldn't, McGee. _I mean_ , I've been going through big stuff as well, but every situation is different. Don't feel like you _have_ to tell your story because 'everyone has been facing some dark places at some point'.

— Thanks, Tony, Tim repeated.

— You're welcome, McGee. Now stop being too sentimental or I swear I'll kill you right now and won't wait for Gibbs to discover what we're doing.

— Okay, Tony.

Tim smiled but didn't add a word, only listening again to the conversation on the other side…  
— — — — — — —

— ...Mrs Grovers ? Tim suddenly said, surprised to see her.

The woman discreetly entered the room and approached Tony and him, a heavy silence weighing on them all. She deeply breathed in and dared taking a look through that large glass as well, facing Nicholas…he was still sitting on that chair, and he looked so confused. Not scared, but clearly affected by all this situation. And she was the one to blame.  
She couldn't believe it. She couldn't _accept_ it.

— You must think I am a pretty bad mother and wife, she shyly spoke.

— We aren't here to judge, Mrs Grovers, Tony gently reacted.

— Thank you for your kindness, I do appreciate it, especially these days...

The duet of agents politely turned back and started facing the woman. It was strange having a civilian here, Gibbs not often being used to have 'guests' in this other room, but sometimes, and this, for unknown reasons, he was doing some exceptions...  
The woman put a hand in her hair, then on her mouth, sorry for her son.

— What is gonna happen to him, now ? she asked.

— Well, Tony heavily exhaled, the situation is quite unclear for now, as we officially know he was the one posting the picture, but do not have a proof, yet, of him, contacting anyone in any way, in order to kill our Marine…

— It _has_ to be a mistake, Agent Dinozzo…not the posting, but the hiring. He is barely an adult…I know people can do things when they are feeling angry, but he's just a kid.

— Mrs Grovers, we know he has been taking a treatment for some crisis in the past...

— ...and I perfectly know what it looks like, but like you just said, it was concerning 'some crisis', at school, not something regular. Please tell me it's not gonna help his case the wrong way...

She pressed her palm against her mouth again, holding back some tears, but Tim didn't say a word and simply respectfully nodded. Maybe he wasn't talking about the case because he was already lucky enough to be here at that very moment…and maybe there was no words to tell a mother who would soon be losing her son ?

— We cannot tell you anything more, Mrs Grovers, Tony continued, but what is important to remember is that it will be Nicholas' first accusation, so the jury will certainly be understanding.

— If we find out he wasn't the one hiring…Tim finally tried comforting her.

— But you did not find out, _did you ?_ Mrs Grovers sadly said. So for now he is your only suspect. Oh, why isn't he talking to your agents...

— We won't be the one deciding, Mrs Grovers, Tony interrupted her misery.

— You know, she sighed and continued instantly, holding back a few more tears, they're good kids. _I_ am the bad mother, who hasn't been able to fix the conflicts in her relationship. They look and are the same in so many ways, and still, they are a bit different at the same time. They have a big future ahead of them, she tried to smile, they both have great abilities with numerous subjects at school, I'm quite surprised they finally decided to study two different things. Do you have any children ? she tried revealing a second smile.

— I don't, Tony said.

— Me neither, Tim added before facing again the interrogation.

Mrs Grovers had stopped talking for a minute, but he didn't blame her for speaking that much. After all, she was a mother...

— _I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs. I let the angriness drive me._

— _Did you use another laptop, or a phone, maybe, to contact someone in order to kill him, or did you do it yourself ?_ Ziva questioned Nicholas.

— _I didn't kill anyone, and now I think I want a lawyer_ , the student lowly pronounced.

— _Yes, or no, Nicholas ? Did you hire anyone in order to kill him ?_ Ziva insisted.

Tim and Tony kept watching and listening to the conversation between Ziva, Gibbs, and Nicholas, all very interested. Tim could hear the woman sighs starting again and some words reflexively escaping her mouth another time, but his mind was too busy, this time, to really focus…

— _McGee_ , Tony almost whispered, trying to be discreet. _I think they're gonna be over soon…you know._

 _—_ You have to go ? Mrs Grovers asked.

— Uh, _yes_. But the Agent Dinozzo will be able to help you if there is anything you need. Now, if you would excuse me…

Tim briefly said goodbye and slowly headed in the door's direction, knowing he had gotten what he had asked for, knowing he should now respect what have been agreed with Tony, and go home before Gibbs notices anything…so he opened the door and left.  
— — — — — — — —

Tim parked his car in front of his building and reflexively watched his eyes in the rearview mirror. _Home again...  
_ Well, at least the dark circles looked a bit better since the forced sleep on Abby's watch. His phone rang in his pocket and he decided to answer the call.

— Uni is over ? he sighed.

— _Uni is over. For now. But that still doesn't smell good for him. I guess orange is not his favorite color._

— Alright, Tim said as he opened the door of his car, ready to join the pavement.

— _He's young, he'll get over it, eventually_. _So, Timmy. You owe me big one, you know._

— Gibbs suspects anything ? Tim smiled.

— _I bet he does,_ Tony groaned. _This man is insane. He hasn't left me since the interrogation, but it's like he has watched each videos from each damn security cameras of the building. I'm sure he knows you were here but won't tell me until he finds a way to punish me. Gibbs always know everything. But well, I thought we had been careful._

— Yeah, Tim slowly pronounced, I thought, as well, that we had be… _oh, no._

Tim's eyes suddenly widened before he quickly started walking back to his car, decided.

— _McGee ? What happened ? You're still here ?_

— I...I have to go, Tony.

Tim brusquely hung up the phone and immediately started the vehicle, throwing the item on the passenger seat, then driving the fastest way possible to some unknown location...


	33. The reason why he left

— That smells bad, Tony said, lost in his thoughts. That smells _really_ bad.

— It is true that we've known better in that place, Ziva reacted from behind her desk, observing Tony. What is it, that it smells so strange in here ?

Tony raised a head in her direction, his body still heavily pushed against the back of his seat, his mind elsewhere.

— Oh, yeah...that, too.

— What are you talking about, then ?

— Gibbs is gonna fire me.

— What ? Why ?

— Oh, it's an evidence, I can perfectly feel it, yeah, I can even sm…oh, _right_ , he suddenly seemed disgusted, what is that awful thing ! It is like 'soft', but still everywhere in the air at the same time… What, did someone buy a 'you are _so_ fired, Tony' perfume, and now tries sending me a message ? _Oh God_ , he turned nervouser than before ! Of course, this is Gibbs sending me a message !

Ziva rolled her eyes and approached her teammate, not minding the umpteenth dramatic effect of his speech, still waiting for an answer to her question… She walked to his desk and pressed both tense arms against the furniture, staring at him.

— Why would you be fired, Tony ?

He sighed and sat up a bit in his seat, feeling desperate.

— McGee just had another McGeek crisis.

— 'McGeek crisis' ? Could you be a little more specific, Tony, or is it too difficult for you to express yourself ?

— I let it observe the interrogation room, and I don't know…everything was going well, he went home, until I gave him the final decision concerning the case.

— What ? He didn't agree with it ?

— Well, he _seemed to be_ agreeing with it !

— _Until ?_ Ziva insisted.

— Until something… _magically_ happened in the air, Tony strangely gesticulated. He told me two more words and just decided to leave me like this, to hang up the phone ! Now I had to tell Gibbs about it, and Abby is tracing his number at the very moment. Oh, I can perfectly see the flames in Abby's lab...

— The flames ?

— In Gibbs' eyes ! I don't think he's trying, like, to run away...he continued. Otherwise he would have switched off his phone, right ? No, I think he's just…living in his mind, these days.

Ziva walked a bit away from the desk, still looking at Tony, though. Tim running away like this, that wasn't really his style…but as Tony was saying, it was maybe not a runaway Tim they were looking for, but simply a very stubborn human being, affected by life.

— What did he say ? she finally asked.

— Nothing in particular, really…

— But you said he pronounced two last words before hanging up. What were these words ?

Tony sighed again, almost ashamed of his answer. And what was Ziva doing anyway ? Running a two-syllable case all by herself ?

— ' _Oh, no_ ', he finally freed the words.

— ' _Oh, no_ ' ? she repeated. And what were you talking about before he said so ?

— _The University_ , a voice suddenly answered from a corner, revealing Gibbs.

— How do you know…Tony tried questioning him.

— No, the University, Gibbs insisted. That's where he is right now.

— _Oh, boy_.

Tony rubbed his face and immediately stood up, noticing the key between Jethro's fingers, wondering if he should be coming with him or simply stay away for now.

— What is he doing at University, he chuckled and tried making a joke, catching up classes ?

— I don't know, Gibbs neutrally answered, his pair of serious eyes staring at Tony. He'll tell me. Ziva, with me.

And Ziva immediately followed, Tony knowing it was certainly well deserved, according to what he had been trying to do with McGee…  
— — — — — — — —

...Tim nervously dived both hands in his pockets, the ray of sun half-blinding his eyes…the nature all around was quite nice, especially at this time of the year. Green trees, humid grass, beautiful weather…but nothing really seemed very nice to enjoy when Gibbs was standing like this next to him, visibly ready to kill him. He noticed Ziva approaching as well, perfectly knowing Jethro would operate one of his humiliating processes. _Witnesses_. He liked that when it was necessary to teach someone a lesson.

— Can you tell me now what you thought you were doing, McGee ? Gibbs angrily asked.

— Boss, I know what it looks like, but I had a feeling that…

— A _feeling_ , McGee ? You told me it was over, you looked at me in the eyes, telling me these 'feelings' would disappear with the cases you had promised to not work on again !

— Well, that was before you forbid me to come to the interrogation…

He stopped as he watched Jethro getting even more closer than before, his blue eyes ready to kill.

— I drive you home, McGee. _Now._

Gibbs' terrific eyes finally moved away from Tim and the agent silently joined the other two, entering the vehicle…he thought it would have lasted longer, but he knew as well that there was certainly another part, ready to be played.  
No one talked until they reached his apartment, and as he got ready for an angry speech n°2 with everyone inside his own place, he seemed surprised to notice Gibbs was the only one by his side.  
He hesitated putting his key inside the lock.

— Isn't Ziva coming with us ? he dared, in the end.

— Why, McGee ? You want to give her a little visit or your living-room ?

Tim didn't fight back and painfully swallowed, reluctantly turning the key, feeling tired, desperate, nervous… _exhausted_. Psychologically _and_ physically. ' _That's it_ ' he thought. ' _I'm officially turning crazy_.'  
It was as if he wasn't controlling anything anymore. Gibbs had probably spent more time yelling at him at his place, these last few days, than during the last two years. It looked like a vicious circle he had no power over, it was as if he had turned into some kind of teenager, constantly arguing for his ideas…but he wasn't even sure anymore, himself, of what he truly believed in.

— You've got two minutes, McGee, Jethro instantly said, as soon as they entered the apartment.

— Okay, boss, I know it might sound crazy, but I thought that maybe…

— What did you think, Tim ?

These angry eyes, again. He wouldn't like that. Tim heavily breathed in and out, and spit the words.

— I thought that maybe they had switched places.

A sudden silence.  
Gibbs neutrally stared at McGee for a handful of seconds…before starting laughing.

— Boss…?

Jethro tried to refocus on the situation, feeling the nervousness join his numerous muscles…

— Is that…is that a joke, McGee ?

— No, but I…you know, with K…

Tim stopped for a minute, wondering if he should actually say the name. It had been so long, but he had still no idea if he was ready to speak about it or not. Hiding the subject under the carpet had been way easier to do...

— _Say it_ , McGee.

— With Karon, Tim painfully swallowed, we had…the bad guy, at first. I mean the 'wrong' guy, he instantly corrected, now almost talking to himself, of course he was a bad guy, but…but you know, they were twins, and…

— These kids are not Karon, Gibbs suddenly said, walking closer to McGee. They're not even 20 years old, and their mother has been cheating on their father. They're not terrorists.

— You don't know about that. I mean…I'm not saying they are terrorists, boss, but…we don't know, one could be while the other isn't, or…

— Or ?

— I don't know...

— Okay, that's enough, McGee, Jethro said as if noticed Tim ready to fall apart, although he was speaking calmly, this time. No more trips like these ones, me, driving you home everyday because you have tried to escape to God knows where…you need to rest, McGee. _And to clear your ideas._

— Boss…

— This is your last chance, Gibbs kept speaking calmly. You finish your week at home. I do not want to have you out of here, and this for any reason.

— But what if I need anyth…

— _No_ , Gibbs interrupted him. No more excuses. I'll send Abby to you, tomorrow. If you need something, you tell her. _Period._ Now you stay where you are and don't go anywhere else, otherwise, you're fired.

Tim simply nodded, although reluctantly, and let Jethro quickly leave his apartment, wondering if he had still what it took to be an agent…not even a good, or a bad one, but an agent in general. His life was so messy and it had started from the very beginning, the only reason it had changed a lot recently was because everything under the carpet had finally showed up and woken up his dark secret feelings... He wondered if he should be drinking another cup of coffee but ended up heading to his room for no reason.  
'No reason'…exactly. There was no reason for doing anything else than sleeping, so that was probably what he should be doing for now…  
— — — — — — — —

— _Knock, knock_ , Abby smiled, all dressed up in black, with her famous umbrella and ponytails.

Her fist left the glass of the vehicle and waited for the men inside to wake up, now raising a small bag of pastries.

— _Guys, I've got breakfast for you two, and…by the way_ , she almost shouted, trying to be heard, _where is Javier ? Guys_ , she repeated, knocking again, _where is…_

But she wouldn't get any answer in return, because the two men in the car were dead.


	34. A knock at the door : Part 1

The fist softly knocked against the door. Definitely not Gibbs' one. Definitely Abby's.  
Tim walked to the door, secretly admitting that he was feeling a bit better…not 'better', in a way that _everything_ had been turning amazingly fine, or anything of that kind, but _definitely_ better in a way than he had been spending a real night of sleep. Kind of _forced sleep_ , for sure, but good one, in the end. So now he just needed to fix his mood trouble, but the energy was definitely better in his body.  
Tim was about to open that door when he heard his phone ringing, so he reflexively walked to where the item was and delayed his arrival...he was grabbing it and quickly wondering who was calling when a sound resonated on the other side.  
The young agent froze for a second, not even minding staring at the small screen…Abby breaking his handle with her umbrella : _realistic_. Abby forcing the lock, or taking his key from a security agent before asking him : _improbable_. Yeah, people might not be believing it, she might be sleeping in a coffin, swallowing liters of energy drink, or worrying about anything concerning the team, that was definitely _not_ her style. And now that he was thinking deeper about it…she would have called him « Timmy » from behind the door, right ? Or, at least, she would have said something unnecessarily joyful before she even started knocking... He shakily rubbed his face, starting to think he was about to turn crazy, and finally hurried looking for his gun, hoping that wasn't Gibbs behind that wooden rectangle, ready to fire him… _or_ fire at him.  
' _Maybe you're just being paranoid again, Tim_ ' he thought. But what if…  
He felt the drops of sweat along his forehead, raising his gun in front of him, ready to face the newcomer. And a second later, he was there…yeah, definitely _not_ Abby, unless she had decided to make fun of him, suddenly imitating someone with an accent.

— _Javier ?_ he slightly jumped before lowering his gun, noticing the unarmed man.

A hand finally begun touching the dark case around the belt, although Tim could feel the weapon wasn't to be oriented in his own direction.

— What's wrong, Javier ? he asked, staring at him.

— Agent McGee, I need to get you out of here, you are in grave danger.

— What ? How ?

— _I'll explain you later, Agent McGee, we don't have a lot of time, now there is a…_

But Tim never got his answer, because he heard the gunshot and watched the bullet cross the other agent's body, the last man in charge of his security instantly falling down in front of him, unfairly abandoning him.  
Tim painfully swallowed and now tightened his grip around his own weapon, unwillingly waiting for someone new to enter the nightmare…  
— — — — — — — —

— _Gibbs._

— Gibbs, I don't know what to do, I brought the donuts, and I knocked against the window, but they were both sleeping ! I mean, I _thought_ they were both sleeping, but they were…

— _Abby, slow down !_ Jethro ordered, already opening his drawer, leaving his desk. _Tell me what is going on !_

— They're _dead_ , Gibbs ! she then simply exclaimed, raising both panicked arms in the air, trying to hide behind a car. They are so, _so_ dead !

— _Who, Abby !_ _Who is dead ?_

— The agents in charge of Tim's security ! And I couldn't find Javier either !

— _Okay, Abby, try to_ _leave_ _! And immediately !_ Jethro kept ordering through the phone.

He snapped his fingers in the bullpen but didn't look back, knowing Tony was now calling for backup, Ziva by his side.

— But I can't leave Tim alone ! Abby reacted. He needs me !

— _I said 'leave', Abby ! I'm on my way, so please, stay safe !_ Gibbs repeated before hanging up, hurrying to the elevator, Tony and Ziva still obediently following him…  
— — — — — — — —

— Who are you gonna fire at, first, Timothy McGee ? a voice suddenly slowly asked.

 _The_ voice.  
Tim kept his fingers solidly wrapped around his gun, not seeing the man yet, waiting to clearly find him before shooting… That was what he was supposed to do...wasn't he ? Or was it only an excuse because he knew he wouldn't be able to free that bullet, and most of all because he knew Karon _knew_ he wouldn't ?

— Before you think of killing me, Agent McGee, or if I can say 'of _trying_ to kill me', ask yourself one question : do you really think I came alone ?

Tim felt his heart ready to die, wishing to the bone that he could only hide like a little boy under a table, or anything of that kind, waiting for the good guys to come and save him.  
' _Try to think, Tim_ ' he told himself, not really believing his own words…  
Bulletproof jacket ? Other men ? A bomb in the building ?  
But a small circle suddenly rolled near the door and interrupted his thoughts, something not larger than a couple of marbles, and Tim then knew it was too late to overthink. The young agent immediately ran to his bedroom and violently closed the door, energetically grabbing his mattress with both his stressed hands, his gun falling with the clumsy movement, the agent finally throwing what used to be part of his bed over him, as one very last protection.  
— — — — — — — —

( _At the same time…_ )

— Where are they, Tony ? Jethro asked impatiently, steering-wheel between hands.

— They're coming, boss, but we still have to wait for them. Their orders.

— ' _Wait_ ', Tony ? _Really ?_ Gibbs turned angrier than before, opening the door of the vehicle, then slamming it, rushing in the building's direction. You weren't there, believe me, waiting isn't a risk I am willing to take !

— And whose fault is that, boss ? Tony worriedly asked, now rushing as well. You never told us anything about what…

— _Not here, not now !_ Jethro warned him, before starting running.

— Gibbs, how many can they be ? Ziva lowly questioned him, following.

But as her interlocutor was about to answer, one of McGee's apartment windows suddenly exploded, freeing pieces of glass down the road.

— _One,_ Gibbs almost groaned and sighed, although it was more like a desperate constatation.

Tony painfully swallowed and didn't dare talking about backup again. Impossible to wait for them, now. So they all ran to the inside of the building...and hoped for the best.  
— — — — — — — —

— Come on, Agent McGee, it was nothing but a small gadget. Breaking some glass, damaging a furniture or two…not as dangerous as it seems, I promise.

Tim's palms left the head they had desperately tried to protect under that heavy mattress, staring at his gun. He grabbed it and took a quick look around the room, wondering if he could stand up again, and look for…  
 _Too late._ A bullet created a hole in the door and immediately forced him to stay on the floor, himself secretly hoping he was still alive.  
 _Blood around his hand. Gun sliding away from him._  
He hurried to stand up, ready to take it back, but a foot heavily hit the wooden rectangle from afar. Tim didn't take a second to think and reflexively reached and grabbed the trophy he had won in high school, violently throwing it to nowhere, exactly, only targeting the entrance of his room…a slight groan resonated nearby and he quickly managed catching his gun again, stepping back, then, in what used to be called his personal space.  
' _Give up, Tim, give up_ ' the voice stressfully echoed in his mind. ' _Death can be painful, but then it's over. Better than fighting indefinitely for nothing._ ' Yes, he didn't know if he was ready to go through this again...

' _Where am I ?_ '

A second had passed. Maybe two. _Or ten._  
So _how_ did he have ended up in that closet ? It could whether be denial, or a simple, desperate wish to look like basic heroes in movies, perfectly picturing these men and women hiding in places like that, next to their clothes' hangers, praying for not being found…  
 _Movies._ He could definitely curse Tony right now. Why was he always thinking about movies, when he didn't even want to ?  
But the dark silhouette approached his hiding place and he knew he didn't have the luxury to wait 'like in movies', so he imitated his predecessor and kicked the closet's door with one foot, suddenly watching Karon's body pathetically touch the floor, his enemy automatically freeing a bullet...but Karon's ankle surprised McGee and made him fall as well, the young agent's grip getting away from his gun. Tim threw a fist at his enemy's head and watched him turned dizzy for a handful of seconds, himself painfully trying to stand up again…  
He heard the click of someone behind him and reflexively grabbed the silver bar, the one used to hold all his shirts, unexpectedly raising it in front of him with his still disconnected brain…Karon's gun finally left his palm and Tim knew it had been painful around the wrist.

— You are a dead man, Agent McGee ! the voice warned. And this time, this is _for real !_

Karon tried standing up in turn, badly managing doing so because of the mattress, but he grabbed McGee's actual shirt in the end and kicked his head with his own, dark spots now invading Tim's eyes, inviting him to sleep…he then pulled him in the new direction he had chosen, as if he was less worthy than a human, not minding at all his victim's groans, and violently brought him to the bathroom, forcing the dizzy man to endure never ending water along his face again.


	35. A knock at the door : Part 2

— Agent Turner, what are the orders ? a man asked.

— First, be sure that the place is clear, we need to evacuate the building and lessen the risks as much as possible, he automatically answered.

— Yes, sir.

— Alright, update : anyone in the parked vehicles over here ? he questioned his man, pointing a finger at the few cars around.

— We have Granners and Paritzi taking a look at the very moment, sir. Two dead men in their car at the entrance, like we were told, both taken out of here, and five armed agents who just entered the ground floor, about to free the people.

Agent Turner suddenly noticed the hand waving in his direction, and immediately left his interlocutor.

— I want the pole cams on every angles ! Right now ! he insisted from afar, before turning back.

— _Agent Turner, nobody in any vehicles._

— And what about this one ? he instantly showed another small one on the other side of the pavement.

— Why, sir ? You think this one might be dangerous ?

— This is an isolated car in a selected perimeter, young boy ! For God's sake, where did you learn how to be an agent ?

The man instantly nodded and headed in the direction in question, double checking that last element. Agent Turner watched him stare through the window and took a look around before coming back.

— No one to evacuate, sir, only flashers on. No one will be allowed to rejoin the building until the end of the mission, if there are people coming back, we have our men to block the way, Agent Turner.

Agent Turner nodded and tightened his bulletproof jacket, definitely ready to come inside, when he suddenly interrupted his walking pace and froze. He quickly turned his head and opened in mouth in order to yell something.

— _Everybody, move !_

The numerous armed men outside the building watched from afar the tense arm accompanying the voice order, and hurried to get away from their current spot, not trying to understand. The team wasn't _extremely_ closed to the space in question, maybe they'd have enough time to leave…  
Both orange lights kept flashing for a last, short while, and the rectangle on four wheels finally expectedly freed a noisy fireball in the air, several parts of the vehicle now violently flying around the uniformed men and buildings, including their own cars, sharing their damaged pieces around for some unbearable thirty seconds…

— _Agents down !_ someone shouted from the other side.

Agent Turner wanted to know more about it, but a group of civilians brusquely approached after a minute or two, professionals by their side, and immediately brought him back to reality.

— Check the bodies and make sure these ones safely get out of here ! he finally added before starting entering the building, snapping tense fingers, inviting others to join him…  
— — — — — — — —

( _At the same time…_ )

— NCIS, everybody out ! Gibbs, Tony and Ziva hurried repeating to the numerous people they met, on another floor.

They all bit their lips, torn between two kinds of feelings...knocking at people's doors when they already should be inside that apartment, something they _had_ to do…but Tim might be their really first priority at the very moment, they couldn't risk having tons of people around, dead for that reason.  
One bomb in McGee's place, already. And a new one outside, from what they could have heard. So why not another one in the building ?

— _Faster, faster !_ Gibbs impatiently ordered, followed by Tony and Ziva, desperately willing to find his agent alive...  
— — — — — — — —

...Tim felt the water wetting his head and tried to fight back, these dark spots still blinding his vision and blurring his thoughts…and now he was back to only a few months ago, that same face, nose and mouth of his sinking under the cold liquid… Karon didn't try speaking, this time, Tim could only hear a few instinctive groans coming out of his lips, indicating his rage and wish to definitely complete his task. Karon had put the stopper in the bathtub amazingly fast, once they had reached the new space, because barely a minute later, McGee's head was already facing deep silence again, small waves moving around him under the pressure of the flow…until bubbles finally escaped his throat, now single sound echoing inside his ears...until these words...

« _You're gonna die, Timothy McGee, and I will let rats make a feast of your body…_ »

Tim tried to gesticulate the way he could, that strong hand pressing his neck and pushing his bones, his own groans' sounds seeming far, far away from the earth's surface…he could have cried if there hadn't been that much water.

« _No, please ! Please, kill me boss. I swear to God this is my decision, kill me now and do not let them do that to me again. Please, Gibbs !_ »

The young agent's eyes widened as the next words resonated in his mind, reminding him of everything he had deeply wished to forgot. Water was bringing back so many memories...  
The hand kept pressing as he tried another time to free himself, and Tim then seriously realized he was about to die.

 _Unless…_

He stopped fighting the pressure and suddenly decided to deal with it. If he couldn't go out, he could keep going 'in', right ? Conscious Tim would have known he was about to risk breaking his neck for good, but according to the pain he was currently enduring, he didn't know if there could be a worse ending than this one…so he pushed himself against the bottom of the bathtub and briefly surprised his aggressor. Tim was already suffering, as expected, his neck and shoulders hurting the white, slick material, and as the top of his back slid on a centimeter or two, he grabbed the tap with one hand and pathetically raised a leg in Karon's direction, kicking anywhere he could. His enemy of the day barely fell and ended up tightening both fists around Tim's humid collar, the agent feeling his head punching the bathtub, shiny eyes sinking under the amount of water again.

— _You son of a bitch_ , the terrible voice said from the other side, _you're gonna regret to be born !_  
— — — — — — — —

— Gibbs, we're here, Tony said, although it was obvious they had arrived at the good floor, according to where they were, and the noise coming out of the nearest apartment.

Jethro put a finger on his lips, expectedly indicating Tony and Ziva to be discreet, but a woman suddenly opened her door, ready to run.

— Please don't kill me ! she shouted at the discovery of the trio, raising both arms in the air. I have a son, I…

— _Leave !_ Ziva instantly lowly ordered, but she knew it was already too late.

The woman pushed the resident inside her place again and both women then fell to the floor, the duet now hearing the bullets flying in the corridor.

— _NCIS ! Drop these weapons !_ Gibbs and Tony said all at once, raising their guns and trying to hide, while fighting for their lives, desperately watching the holes piercing the walls around them, their pieces falling, then turning into dust.

Ziva finally joined the duet again and started firing at Karon's men. One of them groaned as he got hurt.

— Nice one, Ziva ! Tony said, his voice half-covered by the bullets exchange.

— Gibbs, she neutrally shouted, we need backup, _now !_

Jethro was about to answer something, but a few agents suddenly arrived from behind, ready to help.

— That's usually why we tell people to wait, Agent Turner commented, while firing at Karon's group, hiding as well, in the end, behind the damaged walls.

He didn't know if Gibbs had nodded, but he clearly didn't say anything. In fact, everyone in the corridor simply kept using their guns and definitely hoped for the best.  
— — — — — — — —

…Karon's fist punched Tim right in the face, that same face now sinking again underwater, although the level of it had definitely turned higher. Tim didn't feel like he could move a lot in that small, uncomfortable new prison, and only pressed a weak palm against Karon's head, barely grabbing his hair, before pulling him in the bathtub's direction for the umpteenth time. Their movements had definitely become unclear and extremely unorganized, but both of them knew that at this point, the only goal was, at least, for one of them to survive, _no matter what._

— Is it how you American agents fight, Timothy McGee ? his aggressor turned angrier than before. Like _kids_ begging for their lives ?

Tim tried freeing his face and shoulder from the water, and maybe drowning his enemy in the process, but his body position was definitely _not_ the one to realize such thing, so he only managed clumsily slapping Karon's skull, still pushing him a bit against the white ceramic wall. The silver tap cut the skin along his jawbone on the way down, and Tim took advantage of that short other moment of dizziness to kick him with his knee. He then tried to leave the small occupied space and clumsily fell onto the slippery floor, water splashing on his heavy body.  
...Karon's face was now bloodier than his own when the man seemed ready to stand up again, and Tim knew he was now more willing to kill than ever. So he slowly left the bathtub and violently pulled the shower curtain with one hand, sharing its drops in the future dead body's direction, delightfully watching the breathless young NCIS agent fearfully waiting for him on the floor.


	36. A knock at the door : Part 3

Karon watched Tim trying to crawl on the ground, the agent perfectly knowing there wasn't a lot he would be able to do in order to escape…he tightened the fabric between both hands and angrily approached McGee.

— Wait…no…

If only he could have said so much more than this…but maybe it was only the lack of energy, or maybe he was just too scared to dare speaking again…maybe he wasn't the agent he had always hoped to be.

— Now this is _really_ the end…Karon said, half-breathless. You filthy animal, you killed my family, so now this is your turn…

Tim stared at the fabric with terrified eyes, knowing he didn't feel strong enough to keep fighting back, knowing he would soon stop being able to breath…  
— — — — — — — —

( _At the same time…_ )

— Wait, boss, stop !

But Gibbs didn't care staying where he was anymore. They had heard a few additional groans coming from the other side, although they were pretty sure there was no dead yet, but he was definitely decided to make a change.

— _Gibbs !_ Tony repeated, but Ziva simply put a hand on his wrist, indicating him to follow Jethro and shut up.

It was as if they had a veil if front of their eyes, as if they had completely forgotten they had backup firing at the enemies as well from behind…all they did was raising their guns and throwing bullets in the opposite direction, tired and wishing to the bone that everything would end up alright.  
— — — — — — — —

Karon kicked Tim's ribs and raised the shower curtain in front of him, the young agent feeling the blood staining his face and the energy leaving him softly…he painfully breathed in and out, his heartbeats' rhythm increasing like a time bomb.  
A sound escaped his mouth as the wet fabric got pressed against his head, and he prayed for death to come the soonest possible.

« _A feeling, McGee ? You told me it was over, you looked at me in the eyes, telling me these 'feelings' would disappear with the cases you had promised to not work on again.  
_ _— Well, that was before you forbid me to come to the interrogation…_ »

Tim didn't know why silence was bringing back painful memories to his mind when he was only supposed to fight back, or face death. But that was how it was : forced silence was making him fall into deep, dark nostalgia…  
A kick right between the legs, exactly where it was painful. _Simple, but direct._ Tim had pushed his foot stronger than he had expected. In fact, if he had to be honest, he hadn't expected to do anything _at all_ , but it was like his body was fighting for him from time to time, and this, whether or not he was feeling alright with that decision. Karon's upper teeth reflexively hit the bottom ones as he tried to resist the blow, but it was hurting too much, so Tim tried taking advantage of the situation by 'letting' his body drive him out of here, at least a bit further from that now awful bathroom.  
' _Take back the guns_ ' he thought. But standing up again and rushing to that bedroom was almost like a suicide mission in his mind. Even Karon himself hadn't cared at all grabbing his own weapon again, simply deciding to hurry to the bathtub, his victim under control...his soul, if he had one, only driven by violence, pure hatred, and the wish to make someone suffer instead of quickly killing him with the help of a gun... But a minute later, Tim was already standing up. _Painfully_ , obviously, but still not really acknowledging how he had managed doing so… _survival instinct_ , yes, now he guessed that was what it was. A fist suddenly hit his head and pushed him against the wall, Tim's palms barely cushioning the impact. A second fist attacked him right in the stomach and he then felt something crack under his skin, something incredibly scary to experience.  
He momentarily thought of the other agents, probably outside… _yes_ , according to the gunshots he was now hearing, all coming from the other side, people seemed to be fighting against some others. But why didn't he have noticed them before ? He didn't wait for an answer and refocused the best he could. Now there were only _three_ possibilities : there could be someone from NCIS down the road, who might be trying to kill Karon if it happened for him to be easily fired at, or the Agency could accept the sacrifice of risking killing one of his agents in the process, if they really had the opportunity to get rid of a very dangerous terrorist they had been looking for since forever, or…  
' _Oh no_ ' Tim thought. ' _I'm gonna have to kill him, myself._ '  
He felt the adrenaline take a sweet control of his body again, knowing he was too exhausted to keep using violence…but he had to face reality. _Yes_ , if he wasn't, at least, trying to do the job himself, NCIS or Karon would almost have the same chances to decide to make him disappear from the earth's surface. Tim stopped thinking and watched his arm throw a fist at his enemy, in turn, then hit the opposite head with his own.

Survival instinct…

 _Survival instinct.  
_ _— — — — — — — —_

A man hit Gibbs' head with a gun and watched him fall along the wall, ready for some more.

— _Freeze !_ Ziva ordered.

But the man didn't try to stop his action, raising his weapon in from of him, so her bullet went out.

— Tony, watch out ! the woman added as a second man got ready to shoot him, but one of the other NCIS agents fired at him from afar, saving his life.

— Come on, boss, Tony helped Gibbs standing up again when no one seemed to be around. Man, this corridor is way too small for us, he forced a smile.

Jethro stood up as expected, but it still seemed to soon for him to say anything, yet. Wow…so even 'Gibbs the Machine' could be shut down from time to time, with a hard knock ? The thought of it made him clearly smile again, but he refocused on the situation and wondered why it was suddenly turning so calm. They had barely noticed the silence, but now…

— _NCIS ! Hands up !_ Agent Turner pronounced from his spot, checking if there was anyone else conscious enough to react on the other side.

Tony, Ziva and Gibbs instinctively raised their guns right in front of them, now more awake than ever, waiting…until Jethro noticed the small fingers' sign of Agent Turner, who was trying to send him a message. There still was another man in the building.

— _NCIS ! Hands up !_ Agent Turner repeated, nervouser than before.

But Gibbs suddenly put an index on his lips, indicating the others to be silent, now listening to the slight, very slight rolling sound…

— _Everyone, fall back !_ Ziva brusquely almost shouted, the group of agents immediately obeying the new order.

What looked like a marble rolled to a wall angle and didn't take a lot of time to explode. Pieces instantly fell to the dusty floor, the corridor's material enduring the new destruction, but Ziva didn't wait for the situation to get better to shoot at the enemy again. Bullets were definitely coming from both sides, but now she was decided to bring that situation to an end.  
— — — — — — — —

…Tim was enduring an umpteenth blow when what looked like a small bomb exploded on the other side of the apartment, extremely close to his door. Both men jumped and fell down as they got surprised by the outside detonation, and Tim took that opportunity to fight back another time. He raised a fist to Karon's head and tried reaching his desk again, hoping he wasn't too near the broken window, hoping he wouldn't be near enough to be killed by his own Agency down the road…Karon hit the floor but grabbed the opposite ankle in the process, McGee hitting the floor as well, so Tim raised a hand in the closest seat's direction and tightened his fist around the leg of it, clumsily throwing it and making it rolling against the man's body. A deeper groan escaped Karon's lips before he wrapped his bloody fingers around a glassy bottle on a small table nearby, ready to break the young agent's skull with his new, improvised weapon, but Tim kicked him the best way he could with the help of one of his painful feet and managed rushing to the bedroom, desperately looking for his gun. _He had almost forgotten how it was to use a gun._  
He tried increasing his pace as he approached the bedroom, but he ended up falling down at the entrance of it, too tired to stand up normally, and it was more like a zombie walk when he started moving again like half a human, dizzily approaching the mattress and guns around...now he had real troubles to breath, and a damn blood taste inside his mouth. His heart jumped under his skin when he finally saw one of the dark weapons and grabbed one between fingers, knowing he now had a chance to be safe.  
 _A crack around his wrist. A hole in the ceiling._ Karon by his side, as if he'd never left and never would. Why did he seem to have all these small blackouts, almost forgetting things, and watching himself _do_ things when he thought he'd rather be dead and in peace ? McGee managed getting rid of Karon for a second after they both fired at the ceiling numerous times during the fight…and he finally raised the gun in front of him, becoming _the one_ to decide.

— What are you waiting for, Timothy McGee ? the man angrily asked, breathless, cleaning his mouth.

Tim painfully swallowed, that same taste of blood along his tongue making him want to throw up…he could notice the slight shaking of his hands as well, although he knew it was due to tiredness, this time. _Yes_ , he had been way too far, now, to feel scared again of anything, or anyone.

— _Shoot !_ Karon insisted, a tired smile on his lips.

Tim nervously blinked, but didn't wait to obey the criminal. Now everything would be over. _For ever.  
_ He faced the one responsible for all his suffering and heard the click of the weapon...but there was no bullets left. At least not inside the gun he had in hands.

— _No…_ he instantly mumbled.

Karon revealed a wide smile, this time, before turning very serious again. Both damaged hands painfully, although violently, opened the thick belt around his trousers and let the young agent discover what could be inside...

— I guess it's gonna be my way, then, Tim's future murder said, revealing a small knife.

Tim didn't get a second to move away, nor hide, and it hurt so much he couldn't speak. Instantly falling to the floor, he weakly blinked once or twice before closing his eyes...a sharp knife planted in his shoulder.


	37. Case is over

Tim briefly looked at the space around as he uselessly tried to stay awake, welcoming more nicely, this time, the dark spots inviting him to a deeper sleep. There was something very dark, not that far away, although he was too tired to be able putting a word on it. Maybe he had one like this, at home, or maybe…actually, he had no real idea of what he was thinking about…he felt so slow, and so…stoned ?

« _Tonight, don't you want to come with me…in my own little nasty world…_ »

Tim briefly shook his head, wondering where the sound could be coming from…and finally clumsily grabbed that dark thing with no name, still not that far away from him…he mumbled something as he got rid of the tip from that second object with no name, watching dirty liquid leave his mouth as he tried one hard movement.

« _I said please…please, please…I said I'm down on my knees…begging you please…_ »

Tim quickly, or…slowly pressed two, or maybe ten times, he didn't know…that thing his brain was too empty to identify, watching a silhouette in front suddenly getting smaller, the floor resonating under an unknown impact…maybe that same shadow had planned walking in his direction, he couldn't really be sure about that, but he could barely see it now, anyway…  
A hard knock from afar, although it was definitely a thumping. Other silhouettes with dark things between hands. Should he do something about it, as well…? He sat up with difficulty and raised what seemed to be a gun in front of him, hearing the soft click of it.

— _Wow_ , McGee, give me that ! Hopefully it's empty, for God's sake, the man said, now worriedly watching him.

Tim simply reacted by furrowing both eyebrows, trying putting a name on that someone.

— Tony…?

— Yeah, probie, that's me. Remember that next time you're planning on killing me again, okay ? _Gibbs, he's here !_

Two more people approaching him. A girl in the lot.  
Tim instantly tried to stand up, feeling twice dizzier than before now that he was changing his body position.

— Don't move, McGee ! another voice warned him. Ziva, bring them upstairs. And we need a stretcher.

— Well done, McGee, the female voice said before hurrying to another room.

Why wasn't she heading to the corridor, and taking the stairs, and…and seemed to be shouting through a window ? Maybe there was something broken in his apartment…

— Hey, boss, he strangely smiled, now having real troubles to breath. _I did it._

— Yes, you did, McGee.

— I obeyed, he instantly answered, not aware of what Jethro was really mentioning.

— What do you mean, probie ? Tony asked anyway, wanting him to keep talking at any cost, a hand strongly pressed on top of his bloody wound.

— I did it…Tim smiled again. I didn't…leave the apartment, this time.

Then he heavily breathed in and out again, the sound of him, breathing, looking like some kind of raspy noise…

— _Easier to give orders…_ Ziva briefly chuckled as she walked back to the strange scene, I did not even need to go down. _They're coming, Gibbs_ , she immediately turned serious again, Jethro revealing killer eyes at the inappropriate comment.

— Come on, McGee. Stay awake, Gibbs lowly said, softly slapping his cheeks…  
— — — — — — — —

« _Nasty girls, dance, dance, dance…_ »

Blood everywhere.  
People.

« _Huh, huh, it's time to jam !_ »

Everything broken.

« _Nasty girls, dance, dance, dance…_ »

Tim surprisingly opened his eyes, awaken by a sudden heavy breath of his own lungs, although he didn't make any other noise. Something was extremely shining in front of him, rectangle with colors blinding his face for a minute…  
A dark silhouette in a chair next to him, black jacket, white shirt…sleeping, in an uncomfortable position. The man softly moved the arm he had blocked under his ear, as if he had sensed, somehow, that the agent in bed was now facing reality again.

— _Inaya Day, Tony…really ?_ Tim slowly pronounced.

— Hey, I'm not the one deciding which music videos are on TV, McNastyGirl. So...Tony smiled and stood up, just had sweet dreams, uh ?

— I think so…although it was more like memories…mixed with…

— You like to have music in your action scenes, I got that, Tony mocked him. Well, here or there, you must have been pretty stoned anyway, especially according to the blood you had lost and all the blows you had received.

— I'm not sure I'll ever be able to dissociate these two elements, now, the music, and...and that's pretty confusing.

Tony softly tapped his hand on Tim's arm, ironically showing support.

— Gibbs is on his way, he finally continued, and do not dare complaining, 'cause he'll never let you…

— Actually, Tim weakly smiled as well, I think I wouldn't be against the idea of a few weeks holidays.

— Good, McGee. Now just try to relax, okay ?

Tim nodded and tried to adjust his body position in the bed, not fully aware of the pain he should have been enduring if he wasn't under treatment right now.

— Oh, fuck...he suddenly said, I'm so stoned…

— Yeah, Tony reflexively chuckled. If little Timmy is saying really bad words like these ones, he definitely must be pretty stoned. You lucky bastard, he finally added, before sitting down again next to the hospital bed.  
— — — — — — — —

( _Weeks later…_ )

— Hey, McVacation, how has life been, recently ?

— Incredibly boring, Tim smiled as he left the elevator, backpack hanging on one shoulder. Absolutely perfect, then.

— Someone is getting used to having time-off !

— I'm glad to be back, though.

Tim took a sip of his drink and sat down behind his desk after having greeted Ziva, as well. Today was a sunny day, and hell yeah, he was ready for desk duty.

— McGee.

— Boss, Tim smiled, noticing the same facial expression on Gibbs.

— You'll chat later with everyone, now we have to see Vance before the day starts.

Tim nodded and immediately left his cup and backpack, joining Jethro near the silver stairs, who pressed a gentle hand around his neck. Tony and Ziva watched them leave with some kind of nostalgia and finally faced each other again, once the two agents were completely out of sight.

— Happy end ? Ziva asked, blinded by the sun.

— Well, Karon is still in jail.

— True, but he's in here forever ! With the memory of McGee, kicking his ass…she grinned.

— Yeah, you're right. When you think of it…even paranoid Timmy was right. I mean : we were so wrong. Peter was _the one_ posting that picture, not Nick. It's definitely like in movies...the craziest are always right.

— I think it's more a big brother syndrome, one protecting the other one…

— There is no 'big brother', David, they are twins, they have basically the same age !

— Oh, why don't you shut up, Tony !

The agent rubbed his face and thought back of everything that had happened since they had found Gibbs and Tim in that awful place...then a case had followed, simple at the beginning, and incredibly complicated in the end...and it had kept their minds busy. But maybe too busy to see there was something else that had been going wrong.

— He's one of us, Ziva...he had the 'gut power'. _Really_ , if that woman hadn't told us they were both doing well in the same subjects, maybe McGeek wouldn't have suspected one could have passed the test for the other one. He asked me to watch the interrogation, that's where he met her. Man, he was turning paranoid in the end, for sure, but he was damn right about so many things.

— Don't you ever turn the paper, Tony…Ziva sighed.

— The 'page', David, 'the page'.

— Oh, whatever, Tony, she slowly articulated and smiled.

— Okay, let's not talk about it anymore, okay ? Kids can be very impulsive, that's sad, but at least he didn't hire anyone.

— Mistake or not, some crazy guy thought it was an invitation to murder, Tony !

— Yeah, okay...

His mind quickly left the conversation and he carefully observed the desk next to his own, now truly realizing there would soon be someone behind it again. _How strange._

— So ? she repeated, guessing his secret thoughts. Happy end ?

— Yes, I guess so…Tony answered, suddenly nervously tapping his pen on top of his desk. I don't know, actually, he begun speaking again, I feel like…

— _Like what, Tony ?_ Ziva seemed to lose patience. What is going on _again_ in that stupid brain of yours ?

— I don't know...remember weeks ago, when I told you there was something that was definitely smelling bad ?

— Wait, which smell are you talking about ?

— What do you mean, by 'which smell ?' he ironically questioned her.

— Well, she explained with her hands, are you talking about when I said that the situation was turning pretty bad with Karon's case, or when you told me that same day that you could smell something really disgusting ? You know, after Gibbs came to work.

— _Oh !_ he remembered. Yeah…okay, second option, then. _God_ , we definitely need to separate similar expressions, David…

— _Speak for yourself !_

Ziva didn't say anything else and intended going back to work, but curiosity won in the end. Indeed, her nose tensed a bit as she tried to identify what could be smelling that bad, but she didn't really notice anything… Tony unconsciously imitated her and ended up standing up from his seat, walking a bit in the bullpen. He quickly took a look at the stairs, wondering if everything was fine over there, and if the duet they perfectly knew would come out soon…  
 _Seeing McGee's things again…that definitely seemed strange. But still good, in a way._

— Oh, boy…the words suddenly escaped his mouth like a revelation, near Tim's computer.

— _What ?_ Ziva instantly stood up as well, wondering if he had discovered anything new.

— That's it ! That's…

He suspiciously raised the small recipient to his nose, smelling…

— What on earth can be inside that cup, David, the smell of it is undoubtably insane…!

— _Wait_ , she reflexively said, I thought you'd said it was the same on that day when there was only Gibbs coming…

— Well, I don't know how it is possible, but I can swear it, _that's the smell !_ What…

— _It's Cuban coffee, Tony !_ Jethro suddenly answered his question, the man going down the stairs. That's delicious, you should definitely try.

— Wait, Tony nervously smiled, so McGee and you…but… _how_ did you end up changing your precious coffee habits ? I thought…don't you have a rule about coffee as well ?

— Take McGee's, Gibbs immediately continued and interrupted his speech, opening his desk's drawer, you're gonna need some.

Jethro then walked to the elevator, taking a last look at Vance's office door, knowing that Tim was in good hands, having a simple conversation with the Director, and most of all, not risking his life for today… Tony reluctantly grabbed the small cup on Tim's work area and hurried to join Gibbs, Ziva by his side.

— Dead Marine, boss ?

— Three, Tony. Probably a serial killer.

— Well, he sighed, then maybe you're right, maybe a little more energy won't be that bad, I mean, according to the situation…

The agent raised the drink to his lips, already tired by the day that hadn't even started…the liquid entered his mouth and immediately went out like a small geyser.

— _I swear I'm gonna kill you, you idiot ! You're gonna clean my shoes with your tongue, Tony !_ Ziva immediately screamed and stepped back from the warm drops, pointing a threatening finger at the agent, not noticing Gibbs' smile, while both silver doors were joining each other in order to close, indubitable sign of a new day's beginning…


End file.
